Chapter 13 — Music Sent After School

Real name in the studio

Nhien told the truth at the end of an afternoon, when room 3C only had the sound of the fan and the sound of Lam's pen tapping on the table. She placed the USB containing Ha Audio data between everyone, then said: "Ha An Nhien is my real name. I am Ha Minh Quang's daughter."

Lam blinked. “So are you the one who sent the milk tea yesterday?”

"Are not."

"What a pity. I was going to thank you."

Khang looked at her, then looked at Duy. Duy did not appear surprised.

“I guess since I saw you read the device code,” he said.

“Why don't you ask?”

“I'm not ready to talk yet.”

“You know and still let me stay?”

“That's my choice.”

Lam pulled out a chair and sat down. "I need five minutes to digest. Not because you're rich, but because I just remembered the time you said you didn't know what a professional recording studio was."

“I never said that.”

“I said it with my face.”

Ms. Mai asked Nhien to explain everything she knew, without defending herself. Nhien told about his father, SoundSeed, the device code and the conversation in the storage room. She said she never knew about the 2014 project, nor did she intentionally go to school to find the song.

Duy listened to the end before asking: "Are you going to use your family's money to keep the room?"

"Are not."

“If your father asks?”

“I will ask for public, non-exclusive terms.”

“What if he doesn't agree?”

“I'm still here.”

Duy nodded. “Okay then.”

Lam exhaled. "Good. We still have a program to do."

Tin Nhien is Minh Quang's daughter and cannot be kept in her room. The next morning, the whole school knew. But this time, the club broadcast something special: Lam read a short statement that every member had the right to keep personal information, and the radio room's content must be based on data and consent. Nhien did not appear on air. Neither does Duy. There was only the sound of the school yard and one question: "What name do you want to be called?"

The mailbox received dozens of responses. Some people use their real names, some people use nicknames, some people just send a whistle. Nhien realizes that everyone has the right to decide how they appear.

After the program, the principal asked her to temporarily leave her control position to avoid conflicts of interest. Ms. Mai agreed, but arranged for Nhien to do post-production under general supervision. Duy objected to her being pushed out completely.

“If she follows the correct procedure, there is no reason to ban her.”

“The school needs to avoid suspicion,” the principal said.

“Suspicion is not proof.”

Lam gently pulled Duy's hand. “Let Miss Mai talk.”

Ms. Mai proposed a transparency board: all funds, equipment and access rights must be publicly recorded. Nhien agreed not to sign the approval alone. The principal agreed to try for a week.

That afternoon, Nhien sat at the assistant desk, editing redundant passages in the recording. She no longer touches the main controller, but Duy often pushes the headset over for her to listen. The two cooperated without saying much.

Lam named the new number "No one has just one name". Khang recorded calling his friends from the soccer field. One friend called "Huyen", three people turned around; One friend called "Mit", the whole group laughed.

At the end of the session, the hidden account posted a message: **An Nhien entered the studio using her father's name. Ask her who keeps the original.**

Nhien wanted to respond, but Duy kept her phone.

“Don't have the original in hand yet.”

“So we have to find it.”

“Searching does not mean answering everything.”

That night, Minh Quang called her back to the company. He no longer asked her to quit the club, just gave her a stack of papers. Last page of the 2014 contract found in the legal archives. The torn clause reads: **Le Quang Huy retains the right to make the final decision regarding the recording, including the right not to release it.**

Nhien holds the page. “You know it exists?”

“I suspected it, but couldn't find it.”

“So why don't you tell Duy?”

“Because I'm afraid he'll use it to accuse me.”

“Dad did it alone for twelve years.”

Minh Quang looked at his daughter. “Dad is wrong.”

This is the first time he said this directly. Nhien doesn't know whether to forgive right away or not. She just asked: "What does the person who sent the file want?"

“Perhaps I want my father to publicly reveal his mistake.”

“So dad will make it public?”

“If the evidence is intact.”

“Where is the original?”

Minh Quang placed a photo of the Moss Records warehouse on the table. In the corner of the photo is a box of equipment, next to a blue motorbike.

"Dat took the original before the warehouse closed. But he didn't keep it alone. The person who hired him was a former shareholder of Moss Records."

"Name?"

“Nguyen Tan Vu.”

I remember this name from the SoundSeed partner list.

Her father continued: "Vu wants to use the music to force Ha Audio to pay an old debt. If it goes to court, everyone in the project will be dragged in."

“So silence is to protect them?”

“Dad used to think so.”

“What about now?”

“Now I feel that staying silent only gives others a chance to tell the wrong story.”

Before leaving the company, Nhien received a copy of the appendix page. She sent it to Duy, but with the message: **Not posted yet. Just read together.**

Duy replied: **Yes.**

The next day, the group listened to the last page of the tape. Huy's voice rang out: "If we don't play it, please return the tape to the children who contributed the sound." Then Minh Quang said: "I will do it."

Then there was the sound of the door opening, the voice of a stranger saying: "You have no right to keep it."

The stranger pulled the bandage. Huy objected. A metal object falls. The sound of a little girl crying in the distance. The tape stopped before knowing what happened.

Duy closed his eyes. Nhien heard herself in that cry.

Lam sat next to him, not joking. She just pushed the tissue box over.

Outside the window, the bell for recess rang. A normal sound, but the whole room heard it differently.

At the end of the day, the principal announced that the meeting to decide the fate of the radio room would take place in three days. If the program does not prove its value, the room is converted into storage. SoundSeed is still waiting for a signature.

Duy looked at the calendar and said: "Three days are enough to find the original."

Nhien asked: "What if it's not enough?"

“We still do the show.”

“Don't give up?”

“No. But not just because of the song.”

That night, file 04 appeared in the mailbox. It's exactly three minutes long, with no music. Only the sound of someone walking through the hallway, opening the door and saying:

“An Nhien, remember where you heard the lock sound.”

Nhien does not open files alone. She called Duy, Lam and Ms. Mai over. The group sat around the table, each with a note. The lock rang three times, the third time there was the sound of metal hitting wood. Bao realized it was the old room lock, not the new one.

Lam asked why the sender used a friendly tone. Ms. Mai said maybe they knew Nhien when they were children, or just wanted to create a feeling of closeness. No one concluded.

Nhien recounts the memory of the yellow umbrella. She remembers Duy giving her headphones, remembers a person standing behind the door, but doesn't remember the face. Duy did not urge her.

“Memories are not files that need to be restored with a button,” he said.

“You talk like someone who has tried it before.”

“I tried many times.”

They played a program about sound memories, asking listeners if there were any sounds they remembered incorrectly. Some people sent me the sound of the school bell changing its rhythm, some people told me that the sound of my mother calling me when I was little is no longer there. Lam reminds listeners not to force anyone to tell something they don't want to.

Nhien read the last question: "What do you want to keep, and what do you want to forget?" No one in the room was joking.

After the program, the principal asked Nhien if he would continue to do post-production. She answered yes, but pledged that all files related to the family would be checked by the two of them. The principal agreed.

Duy gave her a new list of responsibilities. Her name is in the "sound design and rights management" section, not in the "Ha Audio representative" section. Naturally, I feel lighter.

After the meeting, Duy asked Ms. Mai for permission to be alone in the room for a few minutes. He turned on the old tape recorder and recorded the sound of the new door lock. Nhien asked him if he wanted to put it on the map. Duy said no, because that sound still belongs to a separate day.

I understand that there are sounds that do not need to be shared to prove their existence. She helped him write the private label, then closed the machine.

Lam brought the program plan "No one has just one name". She wants to invite students to talk about nicknames, family names, and how they want to be called. Ms. Mai reminded us not to make fun of people with real names.

The program caused many people to send messages. One friend wants to use her mother's name, the other wants to keep her old name because it is a memory of her. Do not use names in handouts unless the sender chooses to.

Duy said his name had been omitted from the document, so getting the correct name was more important than he thought. Nhien edited the list of credits, placing Le Quang Huy in a clear position, without adding words of pity.

Minh Quang and his lawyer came to sign the public record. He did not sit at the head of the table. Ms. Mai gave him a chair equal to everyone else. Nhien saw that he was uncomfortable, but he still sat.

Before leaving, Duy told Nhien: "If you want to withdraw from the song, I will understand."

“I won't withdraw. But I want to choose every time it plays.”

"Okay."

They recorded that choice in the log, as if recording something normal. Because rights should not only arise when there is a dispute.

On the assignment sheet, Nhien added the item "can change my mind". Lam asked if there was a need for someone in charge. Ms. Mai said everyone must know how to submit a withdrawal request, and the manager is responsible for processing it within one day.

Khang tested the withdraw button with a sample file. The file disappears from the playlist, but the log remains. Nhien sees that as an accurate image of responsibility: content can disappear from speakers, but what has been done should not disappear from history.

Minh Quang sent a private letter to Duy, asking to meet. Duy did not respond immediately. He asked Fuel if it was rude to refuse.

“No. You can ask to meet somewhere else.”

They chose room 3C, with Ms. Mai. Minh Quang apologized directly and did not give any gifts. Duy asked each question, he answered each question. The conversation doesn't make the past disappear, but it's no longer two people standing at opposite ends of the door.