Chapter 18 — The Call That Locked My In-Laws Out

It was the paper bag that had vanished from my filing cabinet. Inside lay the original deed to the house, several blank verification forms, and a copy of the maternity registration records for my child. Tucked at the very bottom was a declaration, barely half-written. It stated that due to an unstable postpartum condition, I voluntarily ceded primary custody of the baby to the father, Meng Shi Yuan. The signature line already bore a clumsy forgery of my name. I stared at those three characters, and a chilling numbness spread through my chest. Meng Shi Yuan still attempted to deflect.

"She signed that herself a while ago."

My lawyer friend picked up the paper. "The ink is not even dry."

The police officer’s expression darkened. Finally, Meng Shi Yuan fell silent. Before being led away, he turned to look at me. There was no love in his gaze, no remorse—only the bitter hatred of a man who had failed. I stood in the doorway, clutching the photo album, the picture of my father pressed firmly against my palm. This time, I would not be soft-hearted.

That night, I did not sleep. My lawyer friend and I organized the documents until dawn. The album, the kraft paper bag, the forged declaration, the security system logs, the bank’s risk management reports, and the hospital’s power of attorney forms—every piece was numbered, scanned, and backed up. My mother sat beside me, the baby sleeping soundly in her arms. She patted the child’s back gently, never uttering a word to suggest I should turn back. By eight in the morning, the lawyer had filed the petitions: a personal safety protection order, a divorce suit, an application for asset preservation, a formal rejection of joint debt liability, a claim for unauthorized charges on the supplementary card, and a demand for damages for the vehicle. There were also sworn statements regarding the forgery of my signature and the illegal trespassing on my property. When I signed the documents, my hands no longer trembled.

That morning, Meng Shi Yuan was released. He sent me an incredibly long message. He claimed he had only acted out of a momentary lapse in judgment. He said that a husband and wife should not hold grudges overnight. He insisted that the child was young and needed a father. He pleaded that his mother was elderly and could not withstand such torment. The final sentence was the only one that held his true colors: he threatened that if I continued to press charges, he would make sure I lived a life of misery. I forwarded the message to my lawyer. She simply replied, "Excellent. Keep everything."

By noon, the interim measures of the protection order were issued. Meng Shi Yuan and Phung Le Binh were strictly prohibited from approaching my residence or the child, nor were they allowed to harass, threaten, or follow me. Any unauthorized contact with the infant was forbidden. Upon receiving the notice, the building management placed them both on the restricted access list immediately.

In the afternoon, Lam Nha messaged me. She had officially called off the engagement. Meng Shi An had refused to return the dowry and had even bitten back, accusing her of ruining the wedding at the last minute. Lam Nha did not argue. She simply provided screenshots of Meng Shi An’s social media posts bragging about my car, the history of card swipes for the wedding expenses, and the bank statements I had forwarded to her family’s legal team. She finally added, "Sister-in-law, I almost fell into the abyss. This time, I managed to crawl out on my own." I replied, "Never look back."

At dusk, Tham Man sent me files as well. She provided more than just chat logs; she included an audio recording of Meng Shi Yuan promising to buy her a house and a statement he had made in a hotel: "Using Thanh Hoa's money doesn't hurt; she is easy to fool." I listened to the recording twice. The first time, I heard the humiliation. The second time, I heard the evidence. Tham Man had stopped feigning innocence. She claimed Meng Shi Yuan had deceived her as well. She intended to handle the pregnancy on her own; she merely wanted to clarify the origin of the funds spent on her to avoid being dragged down by the Meng family later. I did not judge her. Everyone pays for their own choices, and she would be no exception.

That evening, Meng Shi Yuan’s lawyer contacted my side, proposing a settlement. The terms were preposterous: I could remain in the house for the time being, but I would have to acknowledge that the mortgage payments made after our marriage were communal property. I could keep the car, but the supplementary card charges would be categorized as family expenses. The baby could stay with me until reaching six months of age, after which custody would be renegotiated. After reading the terms, I laughed.

"He is still living in a dream," I said.

My lawyer friend chuckled. "The dream will end soon enough."

The next day, the first mediation session was held at the court. I did not bring the baby; my mother accompanied me. Meng Shi Yuan sat across from us, his eyes bloodshot. Phung Le Binh was there too, and the moment she saw me, she began to weep. "Thanh Hoa, I know I was wrong. Please, for the sake of the child, don't push Shi Yuan to the brink."

I looked at her steadily. "When you brought people to pick the lock, you didn't think about the child."

Her sobbing ceased for a moment. Meng Shi Yuan spoke coldly, "Ha Thanh Hoa, do not be so heartless. I have evidence too."

He produced a folder. It contained a report stating my postpartum emotions were unstable, rendering me unfit to raise the child alone. Behind it were several photographs. In them, I was sitting in the hospital lobby, my hair disheveled, clutching the baby to my chest. The angle was from a distance, as if someone had been lurking behind a pillar to take candid shots. Meng Shi Yuan stared at me. "That day in the lobby, you were both crying and laughing. The nurses can all testify to it."