Chapter 16 — After Doctor Diep Disappeared

He took a sip of fresh milk and suddenly said: "Forget all your work this weekend, I'll take you to the island to rest for two days." Diep Nam Sanh is cleaning up the bowls and chopsticks, in his hand holding the plate that Co Tu Mac just finished using.

“Okay.”

She turned and walked into the kitchen, placing the plate in the sink. The faucet opened, the sound of rushing water drowned out all sounds. Her left hand gripped her thigh tightly, and a red mark appeared under the cotton pajamas. Nausea rose up in her throat again. She bent over and vomited several times into the sink, but couldn't vomit anything. The faucet is still leaking, the sound is very loud. … Co Han Chau is meeting with the senior management team in the conference room on the 46th floor of the Co Thi building. The projector screen is displaying the financial forecast for the next quarter, the Chief Financial Officer (CFO) is reporting on cash flow, Co Han Chau is sitting in the chair, his fingers tapping on the table. He's losing focus. The phone was placed on the table, and he glanced at it every few minutes. The screen still doesn't light up. Normally at this time, Diep Nam Sanh would text her to report where she was, what to eat, and what time she would get home. Today there is nothing. He picked up his phone and scrolled through it. The top message was a job summary report sent by Trieu Minh, and below was an advertising message. The chat with Diep Nam Sanh stopped yesterday, the last message she sent was: "Yes." Quoting what he said he was going on vacation to the island on the weekend. Co Han Chau turned the phone face down, the screen facing down on the table. The CFO is still talking, he can't hear a word. There was an indescribable feeling of repression in my chest, like there was a trapped breath that I couldn't exhale. Tham Moc Ngung in the villa could no longer sit still. At 5 p.m., she made an excuse to buy painting supplies for Co Tu Mac, then left the house, went straight to the second floor, and turned into Diep Nam Sanh's room. The room was very clean, the bed sheets were flat, and the blankets were folded squarely. She pulled out the dressing table drawer, it was empty. She opened the wardrobe, inside there were only a few old clothes hanging, all of which were the styles Diep Nam Sanh wore before getting married. New clothes, designer handbags, limited edition shoes, not a single item left. Tham Moc Ngung squatted down to look at the bottom drawer of the wardrobe, which was also empty. She stood up, glanced around the room, the corners of her mouth slowly pursed. This room, at first glance, no longer looks like the room of someone living here. It looked like the room of someone who had left. When Diep Nam Sanh returned to the villa at 6 p.m., she did not greet anyone. She went upstairs, entered her room, and closed the door. The suitcase was taken out of the dressing room and placed right outside the door. The phone vibrates. She picked it up and saw that it was a text message from an overseas phone number.

“Countdown to the final 12 hours. All pre-installed distribution channels have been prepared. Confirm no further modifications?”

Diep Nam Sanh typed two words: "Confirmed." The phone screen suddenly lit up in the dark. A new message.

“[Civil Affairs Department] Your and Co Han Chau's divorce registration officially took effect on March 17, 2024. If you need a hard copy certificate, please bring your Citizen Identification Card to the counter to receive it.”

Diep Nam Sanh pulled suitcase walked out of the room. The taxi was parked at the intersection fifty meters away. After walking about twenty steps, she suddenly stopped. Turn your head and look back at the villa behind you. The three-story French-style building has white exterior walls, a dark gray roof, and a floor-to-ceiling glass window in the living room that reflects the glittering streetlights. She turned back and continued walking. Forty minutes later, the car stopped at the departure level of terminal T3.