Chapter 17 — 30 Years of Stolen Identity

Chu Tieu Bao knocked on the door and left. My mother fell to her knees, covering her face and crying. The doctor heard the sound of running in.

“What's going on?”

"No problem." I said. “We can handle it.”

The doctor looked for a moment then left. I helped my mother sit on the chair. She raised her head, her eyes red.

“Ngh Nghenh… Mom was wrong, right?”

I don't answer.

“Mom, are you… pampering Phan Phan and Tieu Bao too much?”

“So… what to do now?”

"Don't know."

Her tears fell drop by drop to the floor.

“Mom is getting old… she can't worry anymore…”

I helped her lean back in the chair.

"Mom, take a break. I'll go pay the hospital bills."

Hospital fees, medicine fees, treatment fees. Swipe my card. Sign my name.

“Are you his daughter?”

"The condition is not good. Long-term recovery is needed later, the cost is quite high."

“About how much?”

"Every month at least 10,000 yuan. If you hire a caregiver, add 5,000."

I nodded.

"I get it."

Back in the hospital room, my father was awake. Eyes open, looking at the ceiling. I walked over. He turned his head to look at me. Lips moved, no sound was made.

"The doctor said Dad can't speak for the time being. But he can still understand, right?"

He blinked.

"I know what you want to ask. To Phan's case will be heard next month. Mr. Trieu has written a petition to dismiss the complaint, but because of its serious nature, it still has to be tried. Maybe three to five years."

He closed his eyes.

"Tieu Bao, I can't worry about it for now. Wait for her mother to come out and take care of it yourself."

He opened his eyes and looked at me. His eyes seemed to beg.

"Dad, what I can do is pay your hospital bills and hire someone to take care of me. The rest... I can't worry about it."

His tears flowed down. I'll get some tissue paper for you.

“Remember when you were little, dad took you to the park?”

He blinked.

"When I was three years old, my dad carried me to see the lights. I asked him if he was tired. He said he was tired but still liked it."

"When I was five years old, my father taught me to ride a bicycle. When I fell, my father picked me up and said it didn't hurt."

"When I was ten years old, my father took me to the beach. He said I would go every year from now on."

“But then To Phan was born.”

“Dad no longer takes me to the park, no longer takes me to the beach.”

“All of Dad's love… is for him.”

"I don't blame you. Because you are his father."

“But you are also my child.”

"What Dad once gave me was already little. Then Dad took it back and gave it to him."

“So now, what I can give you… is not much.”

His throat made a choking sound. As if to say sorry. I shook my head.

“No need to apologize.”

“Sorry won't change anything.”

“We… have long since been able to go back to the way we were before.”

I stood up.

"Dad, recuperate well. Tomorrow someone will take care of you. I will transfer money on time every month."

“As for the other things… don't expect any more.”

I walked out of the hospital room. Outside the door, I heard my mother's voice. Very light. Very softly.

“Welcome.”

I turned my head.

“In this whole life… the mother is the most at fault… is her child.”

I nodded.

“I know.”

“If there is a next life… I will definitely treat you well.”

I smiled softly.

“In your next life… don't be my mother anymore.”

Three months later. The trial is open. I sat in the audience, looking at To Phan in the defendant's chair. She had lost a lot of weight, her hair was cut short, she was wearing a prison uniform, and her head was bowed low. The judge read the verdict.

"...Defendant To Phan committed fraud, was sentenced to three years and six months in prison; committed the crime of falsifying state documents, was sentenced to one year in prison; combined punishment, served four years in prison."

The hammer fell. To Phan was led away. While passing by me, she looked at me. His eyes were very calm. No more hatred, no more tears. Just accept. I walked out of the courthouse. The sun is very beautiful. Mom stood outside the gate waiting for me. She was noticeably thinner and her hair was more than half white.

“Your dad… did recovery training today, he can talk.”

“He… wants to see you.”

“When I'm free.”

Mom nodded.

“Welcome.”

“Tieu Bao… has been sent to a reformatory.”

"Mom." she said, her voice hoarse. "After To Phan was sentenced, Mom went to the ward and the police. They said his case could be taken away. Mom agreed."

“Where is the money?”

“The old house… finally sold.” she smiled faintly. "650,000 yuan. Pay Mr. Trieu 100,000, pay the rest for Tieu Bao's tuition, and pay your father's hospital fees."

“Mom goes to work as a housekeeper.” she said. “3,000 yuan a month, enough to eat.”

She looked at me.

“Ngh Nghenh, I don't dare expect you to forgive me.”

“But I want to say… I really know it's wrong.”

I nodded.

“I know.”

I turned around to leave. She called again.

“One more thing.”

“Mom, tell me.”

"Before sentencing... To Phan wrote a letter. Tell mom to give it to me."

She gave me an envelope. There is only one line of text.

“Sister, give me back my birthday.”

I looked at it for a while, folded it, and put it in my pocket.

“Mom, I'm leaving.”

I got in the car, started the engine. The car rolled away. In the rearview mirror, she was still standing there. Look in the direction I left. Like a statue. I closed my eyes and opened my phone. A reminder appears: 2:00 p.m. — signing a project contract of tens of millions. I stepped on the gas. The car rushed onto the overpass and merged into the traffic. Sunlight passes through the glass window. The radio plays an old song. I softly sang along. After singing a few lines, tears fell. I wiped it away and continued to sing. Nearing the company, the phone rang. A message. From the police:

"Miss To Nghenh, your household registration status has been updated. Current status: independent household."

I looked at those two words. Independent household. A roof. I laughed. Throw the phone into the passenger seat. The car turns into the tunnel. Get on the elevator. Thirty floors. Meeting room, partners have arrived. Deputy CEO and Tran Mac are both waiting.

“Chief To, just wait for me.”

“Sorry, I'm late.”

"Here we go."

I sat down, opened the contract. The tip of the pen touches the paper. Sign your name. These two words. I have been writing for thirty years.