Chapter 2 — Seventy-Eight Billion And The President Has No Heir

I didn't tell anyone the news of winning the lottery.

The next morning, I went to the bank wearing old office clothes, carrying the ticket in a moisture-proof bag and a blank book. The teller thought I was asking about the procedure to open a savings account. I don't correct my words. While waiting, I called an independent lawyer introduced by an old friend, asking him to check the process of receiving rewards and setting up an asset management company in my name.

Lawyer Hoang Nam asked:

“Are you sure you want to keep it a secret from your husband?”

“I need to know who loves me, not who loves the money.”

He was silent for a long time, then sent me a list of three account classes, a reserve fund, and a clause not to use money to sponsor others. I found the last sentence strange. He said lottery winners often lose money not because of their investment, but because they don't know how to say no.

I receive rewards through a trust company. After taxes, fees and a portion of the safe deposit, more than seventy-eight billion remained. I bought a small apartment near the park, not in joint names. Not because I wanted to leave Khang, but because for the first time in my life I needed a room that belonged solely to my decision.

In the afternoon, Ms. Duyen was sitting in the living room. My mother-in-law, Mrs. Thuan, poured tea for her.

“I'll just help you sign the last part,” Duyen said. “This insurance order definitely has a commission.”

I looked at the file. The new loan is more than I have earned in four years.

“I just lost my job.”

“You have to help your family even more,” Ms. Thuan said. “Khang works a few more months to pay.”

Khang walked out of the kitchen, his hands still covered in flour.

“Mom, we won't sign anymore.”

Duyen smiled, but her eyes did not smile.

"Khang, did you listen to your wife and then forget me? When you were studying, who gave you money?"

Khang sat down next to me.

"I remember. But remembering doesn't mean I have to hand over the house to a loan with an unknown source of repayment."

I was surprised because he spoke frankly. Before, he often avoided all arguments.

Duyen stood up holding the file. Before going out the door, she leaned close to my ear:

“Unemployed people pretend to be the boss.”

That night, I looked at the balance in the new account, then saw Khang calculating the electricity bill on a piece of paper. Seventy-eight billion lies still, and our lives are still struggling as before.

I decided not to say anything. I want to see, when the news that I no longer have an income spreads, how much of the truth will be revealed to the people around me.