Chapter 13 — The Call That Locked My In-Laws Out

That night, Manh Thoi Vien took his car keys, but he also grabbed his folder of vehicle documents. Tucked inside that folder was a renewal confirmation for his insurance, bearing my genuine signature. I replayed the security footage from that evening. In the frame, it was clear that he had retrieved more than just car papers from the cabinet. There was also a brown kraft paper envelope. Inside that envelope were copies of our marriage certificate, the prenatal registration records for our child, and several blank forms I had already signed. I stared at the paused image. On the screen, Manh Thoi Vien bowed his head, sliding the envelope into his coat. Just then, my mother called, her voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper.

Thanh Hoa, there is a woman at the entrance of the residential complex. She claims her name is Tham Man. She says the child she is carrying also bears the Manh family name.

I instructed the driver to turn the car around immediately. The lawyer accompanying me, who sat in the passenger seat, began dialing the building management. Make sure she is not allowed into the building. Under no circumstances should any residents be permitted to bring her inside. Management agreed repeatedly, but my heart remained heavy. Tham Man’s appearance at this moment was definitely not just a fit of pique. She had been pushed away by Manh Thoi Vien that morning, yet by the afternoon, she was already at my gate. It proved that someone else had driven her to this dead end. As soon as the car pulled up, I saw a crowd gathered around the guard station. Tham Man stood in the center, wearing a light-colored coat, one hand cradling her abdomen, her eyes rimmed with red. Someone nearby held up a phone to record. Her voice was thin, yet loud enough for those around her to hear.

I am not here to cause trouble. I just want to see Manh Thoi Vien. He told me his wife has known about my existence for a long time.

I opened the car door. My lawyer stepped forward, shielding me. Miss Tham, this is a private residence. If you continue to spread false information, we will begin collecting evidence for legal action.

Tham Man spotted me, her eyes lighting up. Ha Thanh Hoa, you have finally arrived.

I looked at her coolly. You have come to the wrong place. Manh Thoi Vien is not here.

She took a step toward me. But his mother told me he would be here to meet me.

I furrowed my brow. Phung Le Binh?

Tham Man did not deny it. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened the chat history. She told me to come here and wait. She said if I made a scene, you would be afraid of losing face. She also said that since you have just given birth, you will not be able to hold out for long.

The expressions of those standing nearby shifted instantly. I did not take the phone from her; my lawyer simply snapped photos of the screen. In the chat history, Phung Le Binh’s profile picture was unmistakable, and the content was even clearer: Go to her residential area. Let the neighbors know that she is the kind of woman who traps her husband and refuses to let him return home. She is most afraid of what people say. If you make a big scene, she will naturally concede.

I stared at the lines of text. I felt no pain in my chest, only a hollow chill. It turned out that they still believed I was a woman terrified of losing face. I looked up at the management team. Please, security, escort those who are not residents away. Furthermore, preserve the gate’s security footage.

Tham Man suddenly grabbed my arm. You cannot just leave.

My lawyer immediately gripped her wrist. Let go.

Tears welled in Tham Man’s eyes. Manh Thoi Vien said he would give me a house. He said your house would eventually be part of his. He said that once your child is registered under the Manh family name, he would find a way to make you relinquish the property.

She spoke quickly and erratically. The crowd began to murmur. Finally, I understood why they were in such a rush to finalize the paperwork for the child. The child was merely the key they used to knock on the door; the house was the entrance they truly wanted to force open. I looked at Tham Man. Do you have proof of these claims?

She blinked, stunned. I continued, If you have chat logs, recordings, or bank transfer records, hand them over. If you have nothing, stop standing here playing the part they wrote for you.

Tham Man’s face paled. Perhaps she had not expected that I would not fight her for the man, nor would I engage in a petty display of victory or defeat. I only wanted the evidence. She bit her lip and suddenly whispered, I have recordings.

The lawyer’s gaze flickered. Send them to me immediately.

But Tham Man stepped back. Why should I help you?

I said calmly, You are not helping me. You are securing a way out for yourself.

Tham Man’s fingers tightened around her phone. At that very moment, a car screeched to a halt in front of the gate. The door flew open, and Manh Thoi Vien lunged out. His face was ghastly, his eyes darting first to Tham Man. Who told you to come here?

Tham Man trembled at his shout, but in the next second, she snapped. Didn’t your mother tell me to come? Manh Thoi Vien, you lied to me for over a year, and now you want to wash your hands of me?

Manh Thoi Vien reached out to grab her. I took a step back, signaling my lawyer to keep filming. Manh Thoi Vien spotted the camera lens, and his movements froze mid-air. He turned his gaze toward me. Ha Thanh Hoa, what exactly do you want?

I replied, I want you to hand over the documents you stole.

His eyes darted away. I don’t know what you are talking about.

I pulled out the photograph of the hospital authorization form. Who wrote this?