For a moment, no one spoke. The room fell into a heavy, uneasy silence as each of them slipped into their own thoughts. Noorie sat still, her fingers clenched in her lap, jaw tight.
She could feel the weight of memories pressing in. They were all trying to piece things together the events that had followed Johan’s last call, the little signs they’d missed, the changes that had crept into the family like slow poison. There had been so many arguments.
Some loud. Some cold and silent. But the one that kept playing in her mind was that night in the living room. She remembered the suitcase stuffed with bundles of cash and how she had hurled it at Johan’s feet. “Please take this money out of this house. I don’t want it here,” she had shouted, her voice trembling with rage. “Because of this money, there’s no peace in this family anymore!”
Johan had recoiled in disbelief. “What is wrong with you?” he snapped.
“I said get it out!” she yelled again, her voice rising with every word. “I don’t care where you take it. Just get it out!” Her mother had been there too, sitting silently in the old chair by the window, watching them go at it. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak.
Just looked at them both tired eyes, folded hands refusing to take sides. Or maybe not knowing how to. But the silence was its own kind of choice. That night had changed something. Not just between Noorie and Johan but between Noorie and her mother too.
There had been arguments before, but after the money came, her mother began to change. She became colder, more defensive, always circling around Johan, always trying to justify his choices. Noorie remembered another conversation clearly.
“Just tell me how much you want,” her mother had said flatly one evening. “Your brother can afford to buy you a car. Whatever the hospital pays you, he can pay double. Resign. Help him at the publishing house.” Noorie had stared at her mother in disbelief.
“Nor doesn’t want his money,” she said quietly but firmly. “Nor knows where that money comes from. And it’s not from the publishing business.” Her mother said nothing. “That money is from somewhere else,” Noorie continued, her voice steady now. “And I don’t want anything to do with it.”
It wasn’t just about the money. It was what it symbolized. The lies. The secrecy. The growing distance between them all. Somewhere along the way, Johan had crossed a line and her mother, whether out of love or fear or denial, had chosen to look away.
And Noorie couldn't. For a moment, Noorie could feel her anger rising again. It wasn’t the kind of passing frustration she was used to it was deeper, heavier, like something that had been simmering for a long time. She had never felt this kind of fury before, especially not toward her mother.
But that night, it had crossed a line. Her mother had gone too far. It was the first time anyone in the family had questioned her salary her worth. The one thing that had never been up for debate. Noorie had always made her own way. She never asked for help. Never flaunted what she earned. It simply didn’t matter to her.
But now, to hear her own mother speak as if her principles could be bought, as if she were just holding out for a better price it felt like a slap in the face. Her devotion to nursing had never been about the money. Never. Would her mother even understand that? It wasn’t just a job.
It was something she believed in. A calling. A purpose. It gave her a sense of place in a world that so often felt chaotic and cruel. Nursing had been her anchor. Even in the worst of shifts blood, death, endless fatigue it grounded her. She didn’t expect her mother to grasp that fully, but to suggest that she should simply abandon it for a bigger paycheck, for a position in a business she didn’t believe in... that cut deep.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help Johan. If he had asked her for something honest, she would’ve considered it. But this this wasn’t about helping. This was about being pulled into something murky, something she didn’t trust. She had tried. When she first came back from the UK, she had given the business a shot.
She helped out at the publishing house, showed up at meetings, went over manuscripts, even tried her hand at editing. But every day felt like a struggle. The work didn’t inspire her it drained her. The people around Johan, the kind of deals they made, the cash that came and went without a clear trail it left a sour taste in her mouth.
She knew enough to understand that not everything about the business was above board. That was when she decided she had to go back. Back to nursing. Back to what made her feel alive and honest. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t lucrative. But it was real.
That night, her mother hadn’t seen any of that. All she saw was a daughter who refused to “help her brother.” All she heard was defiance. But for Noorie, it was about drawing a line. About staying clean in a world that was slowly getting darker. And now, with Johan gone, with questions swirling and no answers in sight, that choice still haunted her but she knew in her gut she had done the right thing.
She had too much on her plate right now. Morning duty tomorrow, followed by an evening spent catching up on her Business Law readings. That lecturer was giving her sleepless nights. He always found a way to single her out during lectures, and the last thing she wanted was to be caught standing there like a deer in headlights, unable to answer a question.
That would be the clearest sign that she came to class unprepared and he would pounce on it. Sometimes, she fantasized about just doing it. Standing up and saying, “Sorry, sir, I’m not prepared,” or “I haven’t done the reading.” Just to see what would happen. Just to make a point.
But the voice of reason came in the form of Jenny, her classmate. “Aiyoooo, he’ll call you more often lah! Don’t take the chance,” Jenny warned her after class last week, half-joking but half-serious. “But I just want him to get off my back,” Noorie had said, exasperated.
That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. So she kept pushing through. She reminded herself why she took the course in the first place. It wasn’t just about the qualification. It was about opening doors. If she ever wanted to move into hospital administration or healthcare policy, she needed more than nursing skills—she needed management knowledge too. And she had already invested too much.
The textbooks alone were burning a hole in her wallet. Thick, heavy tomes filled with legal jargon she had to read and reread just to make sense of. The course fees were even worse. And then there were the hidden coststransport, printing, online resources. It all added up. To make ends meet, she worked part-time for a private nursing agency. Relief shifts, mostly.
Occasionally, she took on home care cases. Quiet ones, under the radar. She made sure to keep it discreet. No one in the ward knew. And definitely not the hospital management. Moonlighting was frowned upon officially discouraged. Nurses had been warned. But in her mind, as long as she maintained her standards during regular duty and didn’t let it affect patient care, she wasn’t doing anything wrong.
She wasn’t out clubbing or gambling or cutting corners. She was working. Earning. Using her own time and effort. Honest work. And she needed the money. It wasn’t just about surviving it was about staying independent. Not depending on Johan. Not depending on anyone else.
Every extra shift, every home visit, every sleepless night spent balancing work and study—it was her way of saying, I can do this on my own. She just wished it didn’t have to be so damn hard. “Maybe both of you should go in there and find out what happened,” her father said quietly. Noorie turned to look at him. The words weren’t harsh, but they carried weight.
She could hear the disappointment behind them disappointment not in her, but in the whole situation. In how things had turned out. She didn’t respond right away. What could she say? No? She couldn’t. Not to him. His eyes didn’t meet hers. Instead, they stayed fixed on the floor, his shoulders slightly slumped. He looked tired.
Not just physically, but emotionally worn like a man holding on to what little hope he had left. She sighed inwardly. This wasn’t just about Johan anymore. It was about the family. About everything they had invested—not just money, but belief.
The Publishing House had once been a symbol of pride for the family. Something they built together. Even Noorie, despite her doubts, had chipped in. It started off small just a side venture. Johan had been full of ideas, full of confidence.
He had come home from his job at Yellow Pages talking excitedly about clients, accounts, networks. “I know how the market works,” he said. “I’ve got contacts. I just need some capital.” They believed in him. They pulled together what they could and gave him a start.
At first, it looked promising. A few accounts came in, there was a buzz, some small advertising campaigns. They thought—maybe he can actually do this. Then came the next big pitch: a publishing business. A Malay youth magazine. “The first of its kind in Singapore,” he said. His eyes were bright.
His voice full of conviction. He talked about creating a platform for young Malay voices, about representing a generation, about culture and identity. He said it wasn’t just a business it was a mission. And again, they believed him. Again, they gave him what he asked for. Noorie closed her eyes for a moment, exhausted by the memories.
So much had happened since then. Promises, delays, unexplained absences, strange calls, inconsistencies in the accounts things had slowly begun to unravel. But by then, the family was already in deep. And now this. Why does it have to fall apart now? she asked herself. Why always when I’m barely holding things together on my end?
She glanced at her sister Manisah, who still hadn’t said much. Maybe she was thinking the same thing. Or maybe she was too numb to react. Noorie felt a heaviness in her chest. The sense that something was ending but they didn’t even know what yet.
Chpt 5 / 36
