Chapter 7 — Five Years of Unjust Prison

I stood outside the glass window looking at her for a while. She woke up and saw me too. His eyes were empty, without any emotions. Then she closed her eyes and turned away. I turned around and left. In the hallway met my father. He was escorted by two policemen, apparently coming to coordinate the investigation. Seeing me, he stopped walking.
“Tieu Tram…”
“Sorry.”
I looked at him. The man I called dad for twenty-one years. Now my hair is gray, my wrinkles are deeper, I wear a wrinkled shirt, I no longer have the old lawyer demeanor.
“How much is your apology worth?”
He was stunned.
“How much are my five years worth?”
"How much money is my future worth? I have to carry a criminal record on my back for the rest of my life. How much money is it worth?"
He opened his mouth and said nothing.
“You can't figure it out, can you?”
I laugh. "Because in your heart, these things have no price at all. They are just costs, numbers that can be sacrificed."
"But To Van is different. She is the daughter you love most, she has value. Treating her well, humiliating me, can also highlight your reputation. How much money her future is worth, how much money her reputation is worth, you calculate every bit."
I approached him, lowered my voice:
“Dad, do you know what the biggest mistake of your life was?”
He looked at me.
“You are too good at calculations.”
"You see everyone as chess pieces, and emotions as betting cards. But you forget that the chess pieces will also rebel, the betting cards will also rebel."
The police urged him to leave. He walked a few steps, then turned around: "Tieu Tram, I will make it up to you..."
“No need.” I interrupted him. “Your money, your house, everything you own, just keep it for your gratitude.”
“I don't want it.”
I turned around and left, never looking back. Three days later, the trial reopened. Not live this time. The court cited privacy concerns and rejected all media applications. My parents and To Van sat together on the defendant's bench. The crimes were many: obstruction of justice, falsifying evidence, false accusations of harm, bribery, conspiracy to commit double marriage... My mother still bowed her head. My father tried to defend himself, but the evidence was too much, too strong. Trieu Kien Quoc testified in court, bringing more recordings and documents from that year. The leader who instructed Trieu Kien Quoc that year was also dragged out. Upon further investigation, it turned out that he also received money from my father. Pulling radishes brings with it mud. This case digs deeper and deeper, bringing out a whole chain of people. The trial lasted five days. Final day of sentencing. The chairman read a very long judgment. My father was sentenced to fifteen years. My mother is twelve years old. To Van for assault in court, combined with previous crimes, was sentenced to ten years. All their assets, houses, cars, savings, stocks, were confiscated. But at the end of the sentence there is one more thing:
"Considering the special circumstances of this case, the legal portion of the confiscated property, after being evaluated, will be returned to the victim Co Tram, used as an additional amount for state compensation."
I sat in the audience and when I heard this sentence, I didn't feel anything. Money is very important. With money, I can stop cleaning toilets, can rent a better house, and can continue to go to school. But there are Something that no amount of money can buy back. The trial ended and the police took them away. When my mother passed by me, she suddenly stopped. She looked at me, her tears kept flowing: "Tieu Tram... I was wrong... I was really wrong..." She reached out and wanted to touch me. I took a step back.
“Mrs. Zhou.”
“Stay healthy.”
Her whole body trembled and was taken away by the police. My father didn't look at me, he kept his head bowed from beginning to end. When To Van passed by, she looked at me with a very strange look. There is hatred, there is resentment, there is also a trace of liberation. They're all gone. The courthouse is empty. I sat there for a long time. The secretary came to collect the documents, saw that I was still sitting, and said softly: "Mr. Co, it's over." That's right. It's over. Five years of unjust imprisonment, several months of struggle, a noisy and violent trial. It's all over. I walked out of the court. The sunlight is still so blinding. But this time there were no reporters. There were only a few passersby rushing past, no one recognized me. I go to the bank. Check your account, there's an extra amount of money inside. Lots of zeros. I counted three times and confirmed it was correct. That's all my parents have worked hard to build for more than twenty years. Now it's all mine. But I'm not happy at all. I stood in front of the ATM for a long time, until the person behind me urged me. I withdrew a thousand cash and put it in my pocket. Then go to the shopping center. Not cleaning the toilet, but buying clothes. I bought three new clothes, inside and out. Went to the barbershop to get a short haircut. The person in the mirror is very strange. His face was pale, his eyes were very cold. But at least it's clean. When I returned to the basement at night, the landlord was waiting for me.
“Brother Co, you're on TV.” Her eyes were complicated. “Is that case… real?”
I said nothing.