Chapter 15 — Mistakes Cannot Be Compensated

“I've been thinking a lot these past few days.”

He stood still.

"You can ask to be transferred out of this department to reduce contact with Thu Nha. You will also entrust her mother's future treatment to another doctor."

“No need.”

“We've been married for 5 years, we can't say it's over just because of a series of misunderstandings.”

I put on my coat and held my father's rehabilitation center plan in my arms.

“Luc Hoai Xuyen, do you still think these are misunderstandings?”

“At least there's a lot that can be explained.”

“So please explain slowly.”

I walked past him.

“For the next person willing to listen to me.”

Tong Dao's car was parked in front of the hospital gate. She opened the passenger door for me, and after arranging things properly, she went to the trunk to store my luggage. Luc Hoai Xuyen chased him out and stood on the steps.

“Gia Hoa.”

I rolled down the window. He paused for a few seconds before saying: "The furniture in my house will not be touched."

“I already got it.”

“I still have a lot of clothes.”

“No need anymore.”

“My father's study room…”

“His things are all at my place.”

Luc Hoai Xuyen stared at the old file in my lap. That was the first time since my father passed away that I did not leave his remains in that house. The green light turns on. Tong Dao stepped on the gas. Luc Hoai Xuyen's silhouette in the rearview mirror became increasingly distant, until it was obscured by the flow of people passing by in front of the hospital gate. I didn't look back. The newly rented house is just over sixty square meters. There were still a few unopened cardboard boxes in the living room. The balcony wasn't big, but the afternoon sun shone in. Tong Dao put the key in my hand.

"This place is a bit small, but close to the center. It only takes you ten minutes to walk to work."

I held the keys tightly.

“Very good.”

“Does it really feel good?”

“Um.”

In this house, there is no Luc Hoai Xuyen's white blouse, no business phone calls ringing in the middle of the night, and no dining table that never waits for someone to come home and sit at it. Tong Dao opened the window for fresh air. I walked into the bedroom and put my dad's plan in a drawer. Phone alerts message. Lawyer sent. *[The court has received the file and will soon announce the time for conciliation.]* Immediately afterwards, the hospital's General Planning department also sent an email. They agreed to seal the camera and the original nursing records, asking me to come three days later to confirm. I store two messages. The new set of keys hung on the index finger, swaying slightly. From today, I no longer have to wait for Luc Hoai Xuyen to come home. 8 On the day the hospital sealed the records, Luc Hoai Xuyen sat in the position closest to the door in the meeting room. When I walked in, he stood up. On the table were laid out that day's nursing records, surgery roster, and a sealed portable hard drive. Wen Thu Nha did not appear. The Head of Nursing Department said: "Head Nurse Wen is currently on leave. The hospital informed her that she must be present today, but she called in sick." Tong Dao pulled out the chair.

“When Tham Gia Hoa was almost in shock from blood loss, why didn't anyone allow her to be sick?”

The other person's face looked a bit awkward. I sat down and reviewed each item on the sealed minutes. The original nurse's station records show that at 2:42 a.m., Wen Thu Nha recorded a room visit. Blood pressure 108, heart rate 92, volume blood loss is marked as “minor amount”. Complaint Resolution Department staff opens the edit history on the system. This nursing information was edited once at 4:07 p.m. Initial blood pressure was 102, heart rate 106. The blood loss column was left blank. The editing period took place after I had been wheeled into the emergency room. The meeting room fell silent. The Head of Nursing leaned forward.

“Who edits?”

The employee opens a login account. It's Wen Shu Nha.