Chapter 2 — The Call That Locked My In-Laws Out

Manh Thoi Vien stared at me, his gaze cold and unrelenting.

"Is it really necessary to go this far?"

I looked back at him, my expression impassive. "That is a question you should be asking your younger brother."

He offered a cynical laugh. "I have already given him my word."

"Then I suppose you will have to find a way to honor it yourself."

Phung Le Binh lunged forward, thrusting a finger toward my face. "Ha Thanh Hoa, do not forget for a moment that you are still living under the roof of the Manh family!"

I lifted my head, meeting her eyes with a calm that seemed to unnerve her. "The down payment for that house was provided by my parents. The monthly mortgage payments are made entirely by me."

Phung Le Binh’s lips parted, but no words came out; she was effectively silenced. Manh Thoi Vien’s expression darkened, his face growing increasingly unpleasant. He lowered his voice, his tone dripping with condescension. "You are not in a stable emotional state right now. I will not argue with you."

I looked down at our child sleeping in my arms. "My emotions are perfectly stable. I have simply calculated every single expense with absolute clarity."

That afternoon, Manh Thoi Vien did not return. At nine o'clock that night, Manh Thoi An posted an update on his social media feed. It was a gallery of nine photos. My car was parked right in front of a hotel, a large red floral ribbon tied to the hood. The caption read: "Thank you to my brother and sister-in-law for helping me save face." The comments section was flooded with congratulations. When someone asked how much the car cost, Manh Thoi An replied, "It's nothing expensive, just a car we have at home. If you like it, you just drive it." I stared at those words for several seconds, then took a screenshot. Just as I was about to close the app, a bank notification flashed across the screen. The secondary card ending in 6912 had been charged one hundred and twenty-eight thousand yuan at a luxury jewelry center. I stared at the transaction. At that exact moment, Manh Thoi Vien called.

The moment he spoke, his voice was laced with impatience. "You have seen the notification, haven't you?"

I leaned against the headboard of the hospital bed, the baby sleeping soundly beside me. "One hundred and twenty-eight thousand."

He replied, "It was to purchase three additional pieces of wedding jewelry for Thoi An."

"Using my secondary card?" I asked.

"My own funds are currently tied up in capital turnover," he said quickly. "The wedding is only a few days away. Do not let the bride's family look down on us."

I let out a hollow laugh. "So you expect my family to foot the bill just to maintain the appearance of your younger brother?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. "Thanh Hoa, do not use such harsh language."

I retorted, "Then do not engage in such shameful behavior." Manh Thoi Vien drew a sharp breath.

"I will pay you back."

"When?" I asked.

"Must we discuss this right now?"

I glanced at the discharge papers sitting on the bedside table. The doctor had said the baby’s condition was stable and we could go home tomorrow morning. "I am being discharged tomorrow," I said. "Come and pick me up."

"Tomorrow is impossible," he replied. I said nothing. He added, "Thoi An has to go to the civil registry office to register his marriage. I have to drive him there."

I looked out the window. Below the hospital, cars were crawling in a long, endless line. My car was likely parked right outside the newlyweds' home. "Then return the car," I said.

"Thanh Hoa, can you please stop obsessing over the car?"

"Because it is my car."

He let out a frustrated huff. "You are currently in the hospital; you have no use for it anyway."

I tightened my grip on the phone. "I will need it when I am discharged tomorrow."

Manh Thoi Vien was silent for two seconds. "Can you not just call a taxi?"

I did not answer immediately. The baby stirred beside me, a tiny hand poking out from under the swaddling blanket. I gently tucked the hand back inside.

"Manh Thoi Vien."

"Speak."

"Do you remember why I bought that car?"

He said nothing. Of course he did not remember. I had bought that car before I was pregnant. When my father was gravely ill, the ambulance had been twenty minutes late. My mother had wept while holding my father at the foot of our stairs. Afterward, I bought that car for myself. It was not for show, nor for vanity. It was so that if there was ever an emergency in the future, I would never have to beg anyone for help. When I was pregnant, I had said that once the baby was born, the very first trip I would take would be driving that car to bring our child home. At the time, Manh Thoi Vien had nodded and said it was a good idea. Now, he was asking if I could just call a taxi. I listened to his breathing over the line, and my heart felt as though it were sinking into an abyss. "Ten o'clock tomorrow morning," I said firmly. "The car must be in front of the hospital."

He did not agree. He only said, "We will talk later," and hung up. I sat there for a long time. At nine-thirty the next morning, I packed up the documents and our belongings. A nurse came in to check the room and asked with a smile, "Has your family arrived yet?"

"They are on their way," I replied.

At nine-fifty, Manh Thoi Vien still had not arrived. At exactly ten o'clock, I made the first call. He picked up. There was the sound of heavy traffic and blaring horns in the background. "Where are you?" I asked.

"In front of the civil registry office."

"And the car?"

"The car is still with Thoi An."

"I am being discharged today," I said. His voice turned sharp. "I know. Just wait a little longer."

I ended the call. The baby woke up, lips trembling as if about to cry. I picked the child up and began to walk slowly down the hallway. A young nurse at the station noticed me and stepped forward to help carry our bags. "Has your family not arrived yet?"

"They are on their way," I repeated.

At ten-twenty, I made the second call. Manh Thoi Vien took longer to answer this time. "What is it now?"

I stared at the stone steps outside the hospital lobby. The autumn wind swept through the gap of the automatic doors, chilling the baby’s face. "The baby and I are in the lobby."

"Just take a taxi home," he said.

"You expect a woman who just gave birth, while holding a newborn and carrying luggage, to take a taxi?" I asked. His voice hardened even further.

"It only costs a few dozen yuan to get home from the hospital."

I heard a faint, mocking sound of laughter from someone on his end of the line.