Chapter 19 — Music Sent After School

Duy took Nhien to Aunt Huong's radio repair shop after school. There was no big sign, just a fan that rotated askew and drawers full of parts. Aunt Huong looked at the two of them and asked if she was here to fix a broken relationship. Lam followed behind and immediately admitted that she was just there to fix the headphones, but her aunt gave her a screwdriver and told her to do it herself.

While waiting for the machine to warm up, Duy showed Nhien how to recognize noise caused by loose wires. He didn't say much, just put his hand on each button and told her to hear the difference. Nhien realized that he was always more patient with things than with himself.

Aunt Huong said Duy's father once repaired a radio for her grandmother, in exchange for a promise that he would come back when he had time. He didn't turn back, but the machine was still running. Duy smiled, saying that was also a way of keeping his word late. Nhien wrote the story in a notebook, not included in the program. Some things are precious because they are kept private.

At her old school, Nhien brought the ward's consent form and a list of accompanying people. Duy checked the recorder, but Ms. Mai reminded her not to place her expectations on just one sound. If there were no bells, they could still hear the wind, the chains, and the empty yard.

Lam divided the bread equally. Khang asked if it was necessary to record the sound of the bag opening; Everyone said "no" in unison. The group laughed, then walked through the locked gate.

Upload button

The old school is located behind a row of trees that have been cut down, the iron gate is locked with a chain. They arrived at 4:40 p.m., just before the 5:16 p.m. mark. Bao brought a specialized recorder, Ms. Mai kept the ward's permission slip. Inside, the school yard is covered with leaves and the class name signs are faded.

“I used to stand here,” Duy said.

“Remember anything?”

“A sandwich.”

Lam is disappointed. “Are memories that important?”

“I'm hungry.”

They split up to find the source of the sound. Khang placed the phone at the old bell tower, Nhien checked the abandoned radio room, Duy went to the back gate. The sound of wind running through the door frame, the sound of chains hitting iron, the sound of trucks on the street.

At 5:16 p.m., the bell didn't ring. Old system removed. Khang checked the device, but instead of a bell, the file recorded a short guitar snippet and a child's voice: "Don't sign."

Duy stood in front of the gate, closing his eyes. “I told her.”

“With Nhien?”

“That day someone forced me to sign a paper.”

Nhien remembers more: the girl held a yellow umbrella, the boy gave him headphones. He pulled her out of the room. The adults called his name, telling him not to interfere.

In the old radio room, Nhien found an electrical box with the Moss Records logo. Inside is a memory card, but it has been erased. Khang recovered a folder: **child_voice**. There is a file that is not corrupted, recording the sound of two children arguing about how many drops of rain will fall.

“This is the music,” Duy said.

Nhien heard himself laughing. Memory is no longer a story someone tells; it is her real voice.

The file ends with a woman's voice: "Don't let your children know what adults have done."

Ms. Mai recognized that voice as belonging to Ms. Lan, the teacher in charge of the 2014 festival. Ms. Lan is retired and lives in the suburbs. They didn't have time to search during the day, but there was a new witness.

On the way home, Duy asked Nhien not to upload files online.

“Those are our memories,” he said.

“I know.”

“If we put it up, others will hear us as characters.”

“We can ask each other's permission.”

“I'm not ready.”

Turn off the laptop. "So no load.”

Lam looked at the two people through the car mirror. “For the first time, the two of you resolved it without arguing.”

“We still argue in our heads,” Duy said.

Returning to Binh Minh school, they received news that SoundSeed had posted a statement: the company was not involved with the music, but "some individuals are using unverified audio assets". The words made Duy angry.

“They don't say names, but everyone knows.”

Read carefully. The statement was not completely false, but tried to create the impression that the club occupied the property. She asked not to respond with emotion. Instead, the group distributed some information on how to read announcements and identify language that avoids responsibility.

Lam said: “We don't curse anyone. We only interpret words like ‘possibly’, ‘some individuals’, ‘unverified’.”

The program attracted many listeners, but also made the school administration worried. The principal requested to stop the content related to the dispute. Ms. Mai agreed to temporarily stop mentioning the tape incident and switch to the audio map.

Nhien is not happy. “If they dodge them all, they will win.”

“It's not silence,” Ms. Mai said. “It's choosing a time when there is evidence.”

Duy sent Nhien a new music file. He matched the three notes to the old bell sound, without using the original tape. File name: **After 17:16**.

“Let me listen,” he said.

The melody is light, with spaces between sentences. Nhien heard the sound of rain, but it was not rain in the ice; is the rain sound of current days, recorded by herself.

“Good,” she said.

“Incomplete.”

“Don't fix it too cleanly.”

Duy looked at her and smiled. “I'm starting to understand.”

In the evening, the after.school.archive account sent a longer message: **I am the one whose name was removed from the release. I thought clearing my name would keep everyone safe. I'm wrong. Look for Ms. Lan. She kept the last page.**

The sender's name remains hidden, but at the end of the message there is a signature: **B.**

Minh Quang looked at the signature on the screen. “Bao.”

Nhien turned to the sound engineer in the next room. Bao turned pale.

“I don't erase names,” he said.

“But you know who did it?” Duy asked.

Bao bowed his head. “I was Huy's assistant that year. I changed the ad file because it was requested. I thought it was just a draft.”

“Who asked?”

“Vu Tan.”

“Why did you send us the file?”

“Because I see Huy has passed away, the music is still being used in bargaining, and his name is nowhere to be found. I don't want to continue being a silent person."

Bao gave me a memory card. “The last page is at Ms. Lan's house. I don't dare take it.”

Nhien looked at Duy. He didn't ask if he should believe it. He just said: "Let's go tomorrow."

That night, Nhien opened the upload button for the new song and then closed it. She understood there were sounds that needed to be played, but not before the person inside was ready.

The phone lights up. Minh Quang texted: **I know the person who opened the room in 2014. It's one of my employees.**

Nhien replied: **What's your name?**

Immediate response:

**I'm not sure yet.**

Nhien read the answer, then put the phone down. She knows her father is right in the sense that the data is not enough, but "not sure" can also become a way to avoid responsibility if prolonged.

The next day, she asked Minh Quang to sign a request to check the old camera and card list. He agreed, but reminded that some of the data may have been legally deleted. They don't promise to find everything.

Duy and Nhien went to meet Ms. Lan and heard her tell how the girl in 2014 did not want to sign. She couldn't remember who was behind the door, but she remembered The lock sound has three steps. Khang compared it with file 04 and found it correct.

“Her memories helped more than the hidden file,” Lam said.

Ms. Lan replied: "Because my memory knows I can be wrong."

That sentence is recorded in the notebook, not included in the program immediately. They ask permission first.

At the studio, Duy received his first invitation to cooperate. The inviter asked for an introduction about his father. Duy refused, but asked them to listen to the new music. They agreed if they didn't stick to the old story.

“You're starting to leave the shadow,” Nhien said.

"I still bring the ball. Just don't let it hold the microphone."

When Duy returned to Binh Minh, the group tried to combine the sound of the train with the sound of the yard. Some sections do not match; Naturally leave space instead of squeezing them right away. Lam said the gap makes the listener curious. Duy said it gives listeners a place to enter.

They decided not to upload the new music yet. Play only during controlled listening sessions. The license is signed by each person, and the contributor's name is displayed.

The hidden account sent a file signed B. Bao confirmed he sent it, but there was an additional section cut out in the file. Someone accessed it before you sent it.

Khang blocked the public link, made a copy, and then reported it to a lawyer. No one finds the sender by personal detection. They chose to protect the warehouse first.

The next morning, Nhien created a guide for Duy to use at the studio: every exchanged file must have a name, time, consent person and purpose. Duy said it was longer than the first contract, but still saved it.

The new song was tested on three listeners who did not know the old song. They said the train part reminded them of their trips, and the lock sound made them curious. No one knows the true meaning, and that's a good sign: the song can stand by its sound.

Lam asked Duy if he wanted to add an explanation about his father. He refused. Nhien is not convinced. The new story must have the right not to carry all the past on its back.

During the meeting, Ms. Mai announced the distribution schedule and the person on duty. No one is on duty alone after 6:00 p.m. This rule made Lam complain because she likes to work late, but she still signed it.

The hidden account sent a clip of old door sounds. Khang compared and found the same model as the door of Binh Minh school. The whole group alerted security and did not open it themselves. Bao checked and discovered a loose hinge due to the rain, and no one had broken in.

Lam noted “false clues” in the report. Duy said the wrong things to help them ease their haste. Nhien agreed, although he still wanted the story to go faster.