Chapter 17 — Nanny Counts Moles

“The damage caused by pulling on the scalp is worse than last time.” “Around some locations there are marks that look like needles.” I suddenly raised my head. “Needles?” The doctor nodded. “There are two locations that do not look like naturally occurring moles.” “But look like pigment spots that were intentionally left by someone a long time ago.” The room immediately fell silent. Tan Man's face also changed. I lowered my head to look at Tieu Man. The girl blinked her teary eyes, completely unaware of what this sentence meant. An An sat on another bed, and the doctor also traced her hair behind her ears. The doctor quickly frowned. “This child also has similar marks.” My stomach rolled. The so-called three spots on the top of the head and three spots behind the ears are not signs of birth. It's that someone did it when the children were too young. They were afraid of not being recognized, afraid that the books wouldn't match, so they turned the children's bodies into a label. I asked the doctor: "Can you confirm when these marks were made?" "At least two years or more." "The child is still too young, the specific time needs further examination." Tan Man immediately asked the doctor to record it in the medical record, and at the same time notified the police to collect additional evidence. Tieu Man didn't understand but could feel the atmosphere had changed. The little girl asked me in a low voice: "Mom, is my head broken?" Tears almost fell from my eyes. I hugged her. "No." "Those who hurt you are the bad ones." An An sitting next to her suddenly said: "I've asked before." I looked at the baby. The girl bowed her head, her fingers hooked the edge of the patient's shirt. "I asked my aunt if I was bad." "She said only bad children are brought back and forth." At that time, Phung Ngoc Cam was sitting at the door receiving interrogation. Hearing this sentence, she covered her face and her shoulders shook violently. I didn't go over to comfort her. There are tears just for people to cry for themselves. At ten o'clock in the evening, sampling officially began. Me, Tham Nghien, Tieu Man, An An and the old sample kept by Giang Nghi's husband were all included in the comparison. Mrs. Giang refused to cooperate, but the police asked for permission to take samples according to the law. I sat on the bench in the hallway, two children leaned on either side of me and fell asleep. Tieu Man sleeps very lightly, sometimes even twitching slightly. When sleeping, An An also frowned, her fingers tightly holding my sleeve. Tham Nghien stood a few steps away, looking like he had aged a lot overnight. He looked at us, wanted to speak several times, then tried to swallow it. I don't look at you. Near dawn, Tan Man came over holding two emergency screening reports. Her steps are very slow. I raised my head, my heart had sunk to the bottom. "Speak." Tan Man squatted in front of me, lowering his voice. "An An is related by blood to both you and Tham Nghien." I closed my eyes. Even though I had prepared in advance, my heart still felt like it was being ripped apart. I lowered my head to look at An An. She slept very peacefully, her face pressed against my arm, as if she had finally grasped a bit of warmth. Tan Man looked at Tieu Man again. My throat constricted. "What about Tieu Man?" Tan Man was silent for a moment. "Tieu Man is related by blood to Giang Nghi's husband." The hallway light was blindingly white. I hugged the two children tightly, fingernails digging into my palms. Tieu Man was not born from me. An An is my biological child. But Tieu Man grew up in my arms, calling me mother for three years. Before I had time to digest, a police officer quickly walked over. "Miss Manh." "Tran Bach Xuyen told something during interrogation." "The third girl that year did not die." "She was used by people to change her identity and take her out of the city." I raised my head. The police gave me an old photo. In the photo, the soles of a newborn baby girl's feet are covered in red ink. Next write a temporary code. C0317. On the back of the photo is a line of text blurred by water. Diep Thu Ninh's daughter, unknown

whereabouts.18I looked at that photo, my temples twitching painfully. It turned out that that night three years ago, not only Giang Nghi and I were dragged into the mud. There is also a woman named Diep. There is also a child whose trace was erased right from birth. Tan Man put the photo in the evidence bag. "First, don't think nonsense." "The police will investigate Diep Thu Ninh." I looked at the two children sleeping next to me. "I don't think nonsense." "I just want to know how many people still consider children as numbers on a book." Tham Nghien stood far away. After hearing that An An had a relationship with us, his whole body felt like it was nailed to the spot. He looked at An An, with surprise, pain and late regret in his eyes. But even when sleeping, An An still held my sleeve, never leaning even half a step closer to him. Tieu Man suddenly woke up. She rubbed her eyes, looked first at me and then at An An. "Mom, can I go home yet?" My throat was sore. "Maybe." "Let's go home together." She asked in a low voice: "Is An An coming too?" I nodded. "For now, let's go together." "Mom will handle everything smoothly later." Tieu Man seemed to understand as if he didn't. She leaned into my arms, her voice as light as the wind. "So, do you still need me?" This one sentence shattered all the hardness in me.