Chapter 17 — Heir to the Little Station

Mai's father's letter was stuck behind the last page of the notebook. He wrote to his grandfather but never sent it.

He admitted that he signed the proposal to close the station. He thought the money from selling the land would be enough to repair the pass and pay off debt, and the company would build a new station. He did not know that the resort profile had been prepared in advance.

“You would think Dad abandoned this place,” the letter said. "Actually, I'm afraid I won't be able to keep it."

Mai finished reading it without crying. She only saw the station master's room become smaller, as if an adult had taken all the air out.

Her mother asked if she planned to publish the letter. Mai said the letter was a family matter, but the content of the decision to close the station concerned everyone. She will only publish the necessary parts, keeping what her father wrote for her grandfather only.

Khoa came to see her and said that the resort project could be adjusted to keep a section of the station if she sold the northern part of the land.

Mai asked if that would keep the train route. Khoa said it's possible, but the station will become a seasonal attraction.

“That means there is still a station, but there is no longer a way back.”

Khoa was silent. He admitted that he once took the train to the district to learn a trade. Without that trip, he would have dropped out of school after ninth grade.

The two did not become allies immediately. But Khoa agreed to give the project file to the executive team for them to read before deciding.

Mai sent her father's letter to her mother, then put the original in the safe. She doesn't need to forgive right away. She just needs to stop using her father's mistakes to escape her choices.

Mai promised to meet her father at the district hospital on a day when there was no early train. The hospital waiting room smelled of alcohol and the sound of slippers dragging on tiled floors. Her father was thinner than in memory, with gray hair at the temples. He looked at the gas key hanging on her wrist, but didn't ask.

“I read the letter,” Mai said.

“Your mother sent it?”

“No. It's in your book.”

Her father turned to face the window. After a while, he asked: "What do you want to hear?"

“I want to know who you thought you were saving when you signed the form.”

He said he went to the province to ask for funds to repair the bridge three times. For the first time, the file is missing measurements. The second time it was returned because the route did not meet the target. The third time someone suggested that if we moved the station to the district, the commercial project would contribute. He signed the proposal because he thought it was a way to put money where it was needed, not knowing that the resort had purchased the priority right to survey the land in advance.

“Does grandpa know?”

"I know. He said selling the land means selling the way home. Father said the way home needs a strong bridge, not a promise."

Mai remembers what her grandfather once said about her father: "He wants everything to be easy even when he has no money." Now she partly understood why her father reacted. The person facing the bridge repair bill cannot live on a beautiful story.

“Then why don't you return the book?”

Her father clenched his hand. He said that after his grandfather was hospitalized, he took the book back to prove that the gland could not be saved the old way. When my grandfather passed away, my father signed another transfer note but did not want to show it for fear of being considered a thief. Then illness and debt took him elsewhere.

Mai asked who sent the torn pages. Father said he didn't know. He kept them in a parcel, then someone came to get copies. He did not dare to send it directly because he was afraid that Mai would only see himself in the role of a traitor.

“I saw you like that,” Mai said. “But I also see that you're not the only one whose gas was measured incorrectly.”

He smiled sadly. “Do you want to keep the throttle?”

“I want to keep my choice. I can keep it all, can sell the land that does not affect the railway, can create a fund. I don't know the final plan yet."

“Don't keep it for grandpa.”

“I know.”

“Don't sell it because of your father.”

Mai looked at her father. This is what she needed to hear, but it's not an apology. She asked him if he agreed to use the part of the letter about the proposal to close the station. He asked her if she kept the private parts private. She said yes. He signed a limited consent form, stating the part to be published and the part to be kept only for the family.

At the station, Khoa waited for Mai with a new plan. He did not offer to buy the whole thing. The project wants to rent the northern land to build an access road, maintain the rail corridor and contribute money to repair the warehouse. The station still belongs to the community fund because Mai transferred the long-term use rights. Khoa said this option makes the project smaller and has a longer payback period.

“Why did you change?” Mai asked.

“I didn't change because I suddenly fell in love with the station. I changed because the data shows that if we delete it, the project also loses a necessary infrastructure. And because I don't want to be the person who claims to have created jobs after someone else paid the price.”

Mai asked if the project's benefits table included the cost of maintaining the route. Khoa released a new version, with a section to support rainy season transportation, but clearly stating the maximum level and deadline. I don't promise forever.

The executive team reads the plan. Some people want to sell the northern land immediately. Some worry that the rent won't be enough to repair the bridge. Ms. Ly suggested only accepting approval if the contract has an annual review clause and the right to terminate when the project violates. Tung said we must ensure that construction vehicles do not block the tracks. Lam requested a re-survey of the warehouse floor.

Mai does not make her own decisions. She presented three options: sell part of the land to get money immediately; long-term rental for cash flow but dependent; Or keep it all and find another source. Each option has a risk table, with no “correct” color.

Her father called from the hospital, asking how the meeting went. Mai said they were still debating. He said that was good. “A decision that is passed too quickly is often a decision that has not been questioned enough.”

At night, Mai scanned the letter, kept the original in the family safe and sent the agreed portion to the group. She does not post online. People need information to vote, not a story that makes them emotional.

At the end of the letter, my father wrote a line he never sent: “If you can keep the station, keep it the way it was fixed.” Mai didn't know if that was a message for herself or for her grandfather. She put that line in the "private words, not yet published" section, then continued to open the expense sheet.

Mai and Khoa argued about the land lease contract until nearly midnight. The project wants a fifteen-year payback period, while the community only wants three years and then review. Khoa said the short deadline prevented the bank from accepting it. Mai asked if the project does not stand up under the terms of transparency, is the community asking for too much or is the model only suitable when the community does not ask.

They invited independent lawyers and representatives of the four villages. The terms are divided into easement, access, noise, water, construction vehicles, data and termination. One person proposed banning all night activities; Khoa said the project has a shift. They replaced it by limiting the hours of vehicles passing through the station area and requiring advance notice.

Ms. Ly requested that the rent be transferred to the fund quarterly, not paid in one lump sum. Khoa said the company wants to pay at the beginning of the period for ease of accounting. Mai explained that paying one time makes it difficult for the community to know where the remaining money is used. Both parties agree to pay accordingly quarter, with bank guarantee for six months.

The land for sale is marked. Mai hired an independent measuring unit and invited people with adjacent land to witness. One pile deviated twelve centimeters from the old slab, enough to cause the drainage ditch to be pushed into another house's garden. The team measures, prepares records and sends new maps. The neighbor said if they don't re-measure, one day they will be called encroachers.

Mai's father sent her a limited power of attorney to handle the estate. He did not give all the rights. Mai is respectful, because she is asking the community not to give all rights to one person. Phuc checked and explained each line so he could understand. A family proceeding becomes a lesson in who gets to sign and how far.

Khoa asked Mai if he wanted him to meet her father. Mai refuses, saying family matters are not the part he needs to deal with to be considered a good person. Khoa nodded. He didn't try to step into the space she hadn't opened yet.

The vote on the contract was postponed an extra day because one household had not received an explanation in large letters. Mai did not urge. Tung said every day of delay makes businesses impatient. Mai replied that people who cannot read documents cannot be counted as having agreed just because the meeting schedule is printed.

When the large print version was brought, the household asked three questions about noise, ditches and rights of way. All three are included in the appendix but are difficult to find. They add a summary at the top. Khoa said this was the first time he had seen a contract designed for the person who actually reads it, not just the lawyer.

Mai does not consider Khoa's change as her victory. She just wrote down the contract with more people checking, more conditions and less sentences where no one is responsible.

She sent the contract in large print to households without internet access, so they could read it before voting.