Chapter 3 — 26 Days My Husband Lived In The Attic

Anh ta bat may. In the screen, he is sitting in front of his desk. Behind is a ground-level glass door, outside is a cold gray European horizon. He smiled slightly.

“You still have video calls at work hours?”

"I miss you."

I tried to keep my voice calm.

“Let me see where you are.”

He turned the phone around. The desk has a coffee cup, documents, and open laptop. The exterior architectural style is very similar to Europe.

“See?”

He laughed.

"Everything is normal. Are you under a lot of pressure these days? Why do you keep calling me?"

"Do not have."

I stared at the face on the screen.

“Just wanted to confirm you're still alive.”

“What are you talking about?”

He laughed helplessly.

“I'm fine.”

After hanging up, I reopened the surveillance camera and rewinded to the exact moment just now. The attic door is tightly closed. There wasn't any movement. It is impossible for two Tran Dien to exist at the same time. But I saw it with my own eyes. That night when I got home, I still pretended like nothing happened. Tam cho Tieu Du. Tell your child a story. Do con ngu. Before I turned off the light, Tieu Du suddenly called softly.

“Today dad said he misses mom very much.”

My hand tightened around the door handle.

“What else did Dad say?”

“Dad said he was sorry to mom and me…”

Tieu Du turned around and hugged the blanket.

“But I have no other choice.”

I stood still. The boy asked in a low voice:

“Did Dad do something bad?”

I heard my voice hoarse.

“Your father didn't do anything wrong.”

“So why are bad people looking for dad?”

“… There are no bad people.”

I replied softly.

“Ngu ngon nhe.”

Closing the door to my child's room, I stood in the hallway, raised my head and looked up at the attic. The wooden door in the dark is like a silent mouth. Toi khong di len. Not out of fear. But because I still haven't figured it out... If I open that door and see Tran Dien's face, what should I say to him? At eleven o'clock at night, I sat alone in the living room and sent Tran Dien a text message.

“If I told Tieu Du that you were hiding in my attic… what would you think?”

He replied very quickly.

“What are you talking about?”

“Tieu Du said you've been hiding up there for more than twenty days.”

"I said during the day you'll go downstairs to feed him cookies and play with Legos."

“Khuong Mac, are you okay?”

“I'm very alert.”

“Tieu Du is only three and a half years old.”

His messages came continuously.

"Children don't distinguish between fantasy and reality. You said before that the kindergarten had dinosaurs."

“I told you to wear dark blue house clothes.”

"You said there were bad people outside looking for you, so you had to hide."

The other end was silent for a few seconds. Only then did Tran Dien reply:

“You should listen to what you're saying.”

"I'm in Germany. In Munich."

“It's still snowing outside the window right now.”

“How can you be in your attic at the same time?”

I don't answer anymore. A moment later, he texted again:

“Khuong Mac.”

“Should you and your mother go to a psychologist?”

“Maybe Tieu Du misses you so much that she has separation anxiety.”

“And I'm too tired, you two affect each other.”

“Seriously, go get examined.”

I put down the phone. Sitting alone in the dark for a long time. Logically, what Tran Dien said is completely correct. One person cannot appear in two places at the same time. But I have surveillance video. I saw it with my own eyes saw that man coming out of the attic, standing in my kitchen eating bread, hugging his son's stuffed animal and bursting into tears. That's not an illusion. It's a real image. Unless the camera has a problem. But the camera was installed by me. Wifi is mine. The tracking app is also on my phone. Of the two "Tran Dien", one is fake. The problem is — who is fake? For the next three days, I temporarily did not mention this matter. But secretly do some things. First, I started recording the exact amount of food in the house. Every morning before going out, I take photos and compare them at night. Second, I recorded the water meter and electric meter readings. By the third day, the data before my eyes sent chills down my spine. The bread is missing six slices. Tieu Du and I combined only ate four slices at most. Fresh milk consumes about two hundred milliliters more than usual. The water meter every night, around the time Tieu Du and I were fast asleep, jumped by 0.03 to 0.05 tons. Some people drink water at midnight. There are people active in this house after my mother and I sleep. I also detected some very small changes. The chair in the office is displaced from its original position. The towels in the bathroom were moved a few centimeters. Tieu Du's Lego castle appeared with two more pieces that I don't remember ever assembling. Someone is living in my house. Not a ghost. Ghosts will not eat bread, drink water, or use the toilet. Is a living person. Hiding in my attic. That weekend, I decided to make a plan. On Saturday morning, I packed Tieu Du's backpack and slept over, telling him to go to his grandparents' house to stay the night.

“Is Dad going too, Mom?”

Tieu Du raised his head and asked.

“Mom has something to do.”

I tried to keep my voice normal.

“Mom will come pick you up tonight.”

There was a flash of hesitation in the boy's eyes.

“What about dad?”

“Dad, it's okay.”

Tieu Du nodded, but when he got in the car he still turned his head to look towards the apartment window. I took my child to my husband's parents' house, said a few quick words and then left.

“Khuong Mac.”

Mother-in-law chased after.

"Is something wrong with you? Your face looks so bad."

“It's just a business matter.”

I smiled wryly.

"It's OK."

“When will Tran Dien return?”

“Probably soon.”

After driving back to the apartment complex, I didn't go straight to the house but parked my car on the side street and walked around from the back gate. Before going upstairs, I turned on my phone to look at the surveillance camera. The attic door is still closed. I used the key to open the door, without turning on the lights, took off my shoes and quietly sat down in the corner of the living room. The curtains were half-drawn. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the gap, creating a long streak of light on the floor. The house was eerily quiet. I began to doubt whether I had really gone crazy. Until two and a half hours later. There was a very soft sound above my head. It's the sound of wood rubbing against wood. The attic door was pushed open.