Chapter 78 — Shrimp Street Without Name

Ms. Sau was the first witness called to the witness stand in the first afternoon. Hai Yen watched her mother take slow but steady steps forward. Her simple but dignified ao dai gave her a dignified look that was completely different from the image of a woman selling dried shrimp at the market that everyone was used to seeing.

“Please tell me, would you recognize the man who gave you money ten years ago, if he were here today?” The representative of the Procuracy asked, his voice was clear and professional.

Ms. Sau, her hands shook a little but her voice still sounded firm, turned her eyes toward the defendant's area. “Yes,” she said, pointing straight at Mr. Bao. "It's him. Dang Quoc Bao. I remember that face very clearly, even though more than ten years have passed."

The whole courtroom stirred slightly at that decisive testimony. Mr. Bao's defense lawyer stood up and began cross-examination, trying to find inconsistencies in Ms. Sau's memory after such a long period of time.

"Are you sure about your memory after ten years, ma'am? People tend to have skewed memories over time."

Ms. Sau looked straight at the lawyer, her voice unflinching. "There are moments in life, sir, that people never forget, no matter how many years pass. That night, that man stood right in front of my house, under the streetlight, telling me that he just wanted to help my family overcome difficulties. I cannot forget that face, just like I cannot forget the faces of my husband or my daughter."

That answer, simple but powerful, made the entire courtroom silent for a moment. The defense lawyer, despite trying to continue questioning in many different directions, could not find any weaknesses in Ms. Sau's solid testimony.

“Do you have any evidence other than your words?” the lawyer asked, trying a different approach.

“I don't keep any physical evidence,” Ms. Sau admitted. "But I have memories, and I have a conscience. For the past ten years, I have lived with the burden of silence, of receiving money from the person who harmed my husband without even knowing it. When I learned the truth, I had no choice but to speak out, no matter how much it hurt me."

The representative of the Procuracy, after the defense lawyer finished questioning, presented additional evidence: bank records showed that a large sum of money was transferred to Ms. Sau's account at the time she described, from an intermediary account directly connected to Mr. Bao's satellite companies, an objective evidence that further reinforced her testimony.

When Ms. Sau stepped down from the witness stand and passed by where Hai Yen sat, mother and daughter exchanged an emotional and proud look. Hai Yen stood up and hugged her mother for a brief moment before she was led back to her seat, a gesture that broke the solemn protocol of the courtroom but no one spoke out against it, as if even the most rigid rules had to give way to this moment full of humanity.

The next witness called was Ms. Tuyet, who told the whole story about being forced to sign a fake test result form ten years ago, and about the recording she had secretly kept for eight years as a talisman. par. Her voice was shaky at first but gradually became steadier as she told the part about her daughter, about her desire to make her daughter proud of her mother.

“I lived in fear and silence for too long,” she said, her voice choked but determined. "Today, I stand here no longer because of fear, but because I believe that my daughter deserves a mother who dares to stand up for the truth."

The recording was played in court, Mr. Son's voice from eight years ago rang out clearly, threatening Ms. Tuyet to keep silent forever about the old incident. That evidence, combined with her direct testimony, forms one of the most important pieces of the puzzle, clearly confirming the organized obstruction of justice that has occurred over the years.

When Mrs. Tuyet stepped down, her eyes found her daughter sitting in the audience, who had come to attend the trial to support her mother. The girl stood up, ran to hug her mother, and both cried with emotion, an image that made many people in the courtroom cry.

The next witness is Mr. Son, whose appearance in court attracted special attention, because he was both a witness and a part of the chain of crimes that the court was trying. He stepped onto the witness stand with a much more mature appearance than the panicked image in the office many months ago.

"Can you recount everything you know about Nguyen Dang Hoai's role in orchestrating the case of Mr. Do Van Tien ten years ago?" the representative of the Procuracy asked.

Mr. Son took a deep breath, then began to tell the whole story, from being threatened, to the money he received, to signing the altered results sheet. His voice was steady but full of weight, each word he spoke was like another brick being placed in the wall of evidence that was gradually being completely built in court.

“I know I am guilty,” he said at the end of his testimony, his voice choking. "I do not seek to deny my responsibility. But I hope the court understands, I have lived with this torment for the past ten years, and today, I stand here to do what I should have done a long time ago — tell the truth, even at the cost of myself."

Mr. Bao's defense lawyer tried to question Mr. Son about his motives for cooperating with the investigation agency, implying that his testimony may not be reliable because he was seeking to reduce his own punishment. Mr. Son responded with surprising calmness.

“I don't expect any leniency for what I did,” he said. “I just hope that the truth I tell today will help exonerate a person who died unjustly, and prevent similar crimes from continuing in the future.”

The first afternoon of witness questioning ended with three powerful testimonies, each contributing to a clearer picture of the crime that took place over the past ten years. Hai Yen, as she left the courtroom with her family at the end of the day, felt both exhausted and hopeful, knowing that this was just the first day in a series of important days ahead.

On the way home, the group stopped by a small restaurant to have dinner together, a habit they maintained throughout the days preparing for the trial. The atmosphere during the meal was both relieved to have passed the first day and also stressed knowing that more difficult days await.

“Uncle Sau's testimony is really strong,” lawyer Hoang commented, her voice filled with satisfaction. “The way he answered the defense attorney's questions, without flinching, made a very good impression on the jury.”

“I'm proud of mom,” Hai Yen said, looking at Mrs. Sau sitting next to her, her face still shining with fatigue but also full of pride.

“I'm just telling the truth,” Mrs. Sau replied, humbly. “The truth is always the easiest thing to tell, because you don't have to remember what you said before, and you don't have to worry about being caught lying.”

Her simple statement made the whole dining table laugh in relief, a rare moment of relaxation amid stressful days. The dinner ended in a warm atmosphere, each person returned home to rest, preparing their strength for the second day of the trial, when other important witnesses would continue to step onto the witness stand to tell the rest of this painful but also meaningful story.

Returning home, before going to bed, Hai Yen sat alone, writing in her notebook her impressions of the first day of the trial. She wrote about her mother's steady stance on the witness stand, about Ms. Tuyet's shaky but steadfast voice, and about the tormented sincerity in Mr. Son's testimony. Each testimony, she realized, was not just legal evidence, but also an act of healing, a way for each of them to free themselves from the burden they had carried for so long.

She looked at her father's notebook, placed it next to her own notebook on the table, two mementos that have now become symbols of two generations sharing the same desire for truth and justice. Before turning off the lights, she whispered one last promise for the day: "I will continue, Dad. One day at a time, until the truth is fully told."