Chapter 1 — The Fateful Trial

Neighbor Ms. Vuong filed a lawsuit and dragged my son to court. She said my son beat her sixteen-year-old daughter to the point of having to be hospitalized, and demanded compensation of five hundred thousand yuan (about 1.7 billion VND) in hospital fees and mental damage. After listening, I froze. My son is only... three months old this year, and he hasn't even turned over yet. In court, Ms. Vuong was in tears and her nose was dirty, pointing straight at me and cursing: "Your son is a devil, my daughter is now so scared that she doesn't dare leave the house!" The judge frowned and looked at me: "Defendant, please invite your son to appear before the court." I held my son, who was still sleeping soundly in his diaper, and stood up. The whole court suddenly fell silent. 01 The day I received the summons, my son had just fallen asleep. The baby was only three months old, could not hold a rattle in his hand, and often choked when he drank milk. The doorbell rang three times. I picked up my baby and opened the door. The shipper gave me a cardboard envelope.

“Duong Hoa, right?”

“Yes.”

“Court courier letter, please sign for it.”

I bent down to look at the words on the envelope, my fingers paused. Civil lawsuit petition. In the defendant column, write my son's name: Ha An An. I thought I looked wrong. But those three words are clear, the address is also my home. I put the baby back in the crib and opened the envelope. Spreading the paper out on the dining table, I read each line, my spine starting to feel cold. Plaintiff: Phung Le Le. Legal representative: Vuong Xao Tran. Lawsuit request: Ask Ha An An to compensate for hospital fees, care fees, and mental damage costs, a total of five hundred thousand yuan. The truth and reason section is very long. Said that my son blocked Phung Le Le's way at the back door of the apartment complex, pushed her down, punched and kicked her, causing Phung Le Le to have a head injury and a fracture in her right arm, to this day she doesn't dare to leave the house. I stared at those words, almost burst out laughing. But before the smile reached the corners of his lips, it turned into cold sweat. My son is only three months old. It turned over and had to ask me to help push it. How did he go out the back door of the apartment to beat someone? I picked up the phone and called my husband Ha Tuan. No one answered the phone. These two days he went to a meeting in another province. I called again. Still no one picked up the phone. The boy in the crib stirred and groaned. I turned around and was about to comfort my child when Vuong Xao Tran's voice suddenly sounded outside the door.

“Duong Hoa, don't hide in the house pretending to be dead!”

Her voice was so loud that the whole floor could hear it. I opened the door. Vuong Xao Tran stood there, followed by two neighbors. Her eyes were red and she was holding a stack of medical records in her hand.

“Your son hurt my daughter like this, do you still have the face to stay home and hug your child?”

I looked at her.

“Miss Vuong, do you know how old my son is?”

Vuong Xao Tran sneered:

“Don't use the child as a cover, your family is only good at pretending to be pitiful, right?”

Neighbor Mrs. Luu stood next to her and poked her head in to look:

“Duong Hoa, if your children cause trouble, please compensate them properly, dragging each other to court is very unsightly.”

I open the door wide:

“My son is sleeping, do you want to come in and see?”

Vuong Xao Tran's face stiffened:

“Who knew you were hiding boys in the house!”

As soon as the sentence ended, the hallway suddenly fell silent for a second. I looked straight in her face. She never missed a word. She seemed to have prepared this statement in advance. I slammed the door. My palms are full of sweat. I turned to see the list of evidence attached to the lawsuit. Hospital discharge papers. Police report receipt. Photo cut from camera. Witness testimony. And also a copy of household registration information. On that copy, the name Ha An An was printed very clearly. Gender: Male. Age: Sixteen. Address: This is my house. I pulled out that piece of paper. The corner of the paper has a red stamp on it. Under the red seal is a small text: Registration date was last month. Last month my son was still in the incubator and had never even walked out the door. Yet, on this household registration information sheet, the sixteen-year-old Ha An An has solemnly moved into my house. More ironically, in the guardian column, my name is clearly written. 02 One day before going to court, Ha Tuan finally called back. I took a photo of the petition and sent it to him. The other end of the line was silent for a long time.

"Don't rush, I'll be right back."

“What is this household registration information sheet?” – I asked.

“I don't know.” His voice is very low. “Duong Hoa, I really don't know.”

I don't ask any more. I turned on call recording and put the phone on the table.

“Ha Tuan, listen carefully, I will take An An with me to court tomorrow.”

He panicked: "The child is still small, why are you taking him away?"

“Because the person they are suing is me.”

The other party muted the sound. I hung up the phone, stuffed my son's birth certificate, vaccination book, hospital discharge papers, and full-month examination form into a file bag. The next morning, I pushed the stroller out the door. Vuong Xao Tran was already waiting downstairs. She was wearing a black shirt, her eyes were puffy, and next to her was her daughter Phung Le Le. Phung Le Le wore a mask, her right hand hung in a bandage, her head down. As soon as he saw me, Vuong Xao Tran rushed forward: "You still dare to come!" I pulled the stroller behind me a bit: "See you in court." She stared at the stroller, her eyes flashing: "What did you bring this thing for?"

“Take the defendant to court.”

The corner of her mouth twitched: "Duong Hoa, stop playing tricks." I ignore her. There were quite a few people in the courtroom. Vuong Xao Tran called a few neighbors to listen. They looked at me with eyes full of criticism. It was as if I had raised a demon. At the beginning of the trial, Vuong Xao Tran cried loudly. She cried loudly: "Judge, I only have one daughter, she is only sixteen years old."

"Now he has nightmares every night, and when he hears footsteps, he trembles."

“I'm not after money, I just want justice!”

After crying, she submitted the medical records. Her lawyer, Vien Bin, stood up loudly:

“Defendant Ha An An often loitered in the apartment complex and many times had altercations with the plaintiff.”

“The day the incident occurred, the camera recorded the scene of the defendant chasing and beating the plaintiff.”

“After the plaintiff was injured, the defendant's family refused to apologize and had an extremely bad attitude.”

I raised my head to look at him: "Have you ever met Ha An An in the flesh?" Vien Ban glanced at me: "Please ask the defendant not to interrupt." Judge Tuong looked at me: "Wait until the plaintiff finishes presenting, then you will be able to express your opinion." Vuong Xao Tran immediately pointed at me: "That's her attitude!"

“Her son hurts people, but she still behaves as if nothing happened!”

Under the chair Someone in the audience whispered: "You look intellectual, but you didn't expect your children at home to be so uneducated." I placed the file bag on my lap and gently pressed the mouth of the bag. The boy in the stroller stirred. I bent down to pat my baby. The boy fell asleep again. Yuan Bin began to present evidence. The first photo is a photo cut from the camera. The image is very blurry. A teenager wearing a black jacket stood at the back door of the apartment building. The second photo is a photo of Phung Le Le after falling. The third photo is the household registration card. Vien Bin held up the piece of paper: