Chapter 3 — Eight Stolen Years

“This is… the bottle we folded in twelfth grade?”

"I was packing things recently so I found it. I thought I hadn't seen it for a long time, so I brought it to you."

Her eyes became complicated. There is nostalgia. There is also a kind of caution that I cannot name.

“It's been so many years and you still keep it.”

I lowered my eyes and spoke very softly.

"There are some things that, even if they're old, they don't want to throw them away. Unlike humans... when they say change, they change."

I saw her fingers twitching very unnaturally. I keep saying:

"Lately, I've been dreaming a lot. Dreaming about the day we went to register for college. In the old street near here, we both ate a bowl of wontons each, do you remember?"

Her face turned a little whiter.

“Remember? What's wrong?”

"Nothing."

I smiled, picked up the free lemonade on the table and took a sip.

“Just after that day, my file bag disappeared.”

“Tell me… is it a coincidence?”

I stared into her eyes. Her hand holding the cup of coffee trembled slightly. The air conditioner in the restaurant is very cold. But I still saw tiny drops of sweat starting to fall on her smooth white forehead. Tham Nguyet's expression in that moment broke for exactly half a second. But very soon, she returned with a familiar face of pain because of someone else. She put down the coffee cup and grabbed my hand with surprisingly strong force.

"Le Le, why are you thinking about that again? It's all been over for a long time. I know your heart is miserable, but people have to look forward."

Creamy. Sincere eyes. Like she was actually hurting for me.

"I know you didn't mean it, but every time I hear you mention this, I feel very uncomfortable. I always feel that if I could share a little luck with you that day, maybe you wouldn't be so unlucky."

What a masterful performance. Just a few sentences immediately changed the topic from "the coincidence of losing the file" to "her guilt". She will always be my kind, innocent, best friend who always thinks about me. A pitiful person who lives forever in the past, refusing to let go. I didn't withdraw my hand from her. On the contrary, he had the advantage of leaning on her shoulder.

"Nguyet Nguyet, I know, I know everything. All these years, you're the only one who's always cared about me. It's just... lately I keep thinking about the past."

I buried my head in her neck. From this angle, she wouldn't be able to see the expression on my face. The corners of my lips are curling up. The hand below the table quietly pressed the record button on the phone.

“What do you remember?” She patted my back, her voice relaxing a bit.

"I remember that day after registering my wishes, you came home with me. I put the file bag on the desk, and you picked it up to look at it for a long time."

My voice was very light, like I was talking in a trance.

"You said, 'Le Le is really good, he's about to go to the capital.' Then he kept holding the file bag, saying he wanted to get some luck. We talked for a long time, and when he came back, it started to rain outside."

I speak very slowly. Every detail seems to be playing back in slow motion. I could clearly feel her body stiffen. She called my name, her voice a bit hoarse.

"Are you remembering wrong? I... I don't remember anymore."

I raised my head, my eyes filled with tears, looking both innocent and confused.

“That's probably true. Over the past few years my memory has gotten worse and worse. Maybe because life is so miserable, my mind is confused."

I laughed at myself. That appearance successfully made her relax her guard once again. She breathed a sigh of relief, showing mercy again.

“You're so stupid, don't think about it anymore. If you lose your job then stop losing your job, just move to my house for a while, let Luc Xuyen help you find a lighter job."

She started using a savior stance to organize my life.

“No need.”

I immediately refused.

“I don't want Luc Xuyen... I don't want him to see me now.”

When mentioning Luc Xuyen, a hint of self-deprecation appeared in my voice. This makes Tham Nguyet extremely satisfied. A flash of pride flashed in her eyes.

“Okay then.”

She pulled a card from her wallet and stuffed it into my hand.

“You just take it first. The password is still your birthday. Don't be polite to me, or I'll be angry."

I refused several times, but in the end I was still "forced" to accept it. Money given for porridge. In this first encounter, I got what I wanted. Not money. It's her reaction. Panic. Guilt. Her self-righteous sense of control. There's also this recording. Even though she hasn't admitted anything, if you show this conversation to a psychologist... Or to Luc Xuyen... They will definitely notice the loophole. Leaving the cafe, I didn't go home. I went to my old high school. The school has changed a lot, but the teaching building that year is still intact. I found my old homeroom teacher - Mr. Truong. He almost no longer teaches classes and only does some leisurely work in the file storage room. Seeing me, the teacher was stunned for a long time before he realized. In the teacher's eyes was regret that could not be hidden.

“Teacher, I want to ask you something.”

I get straight to the point.

“My records were lost that year. Did the school investigate?”

Teacher Truong sighed and poured me a glass of water.

“Why not investigate? The school notified the police and also asked all teachers and students who might have come into contact with the records. But those days there were too many people coming in and out, too chaotic, and there were no clues."

The teacher said again:

“I always feel sorry for you. You are the best student I have ever taught. If not—”

“Teacher, I don't blame you.”

I interrupted him.

"I came here today to ask... did you ever feel that anyone or anything was suspicious?"

Teacher Truong frowned, trying to remember.

“Suspicious…”