Chapter 25 — The Fateful Trial

I laughed out loud: "You better not jump. Because you have to live to be able to clearly declare every single thing you have done." The police officer standing next to him held a walkie-talkie and contacted the on-duty force at the hospital. The employee at the counter pushed the form towards Ha Tuan a bit: "Mr. Ha, if you agree to the correction, please sign now." Ha Tuan clutched the pen tightly, sweat pouring out in layers on his face. I don't urge. I just took out my phone and opened the image cut from the camera in the hospital room last night. In the photo, he stands at the door, watching Lam Mai steal my papers. I put the phone in front of him:

"If you sign now, it's to atone for your mistakes. If you don't sign, it means you will continue to hide it."

Ha Tuan stared at the photo, his eye sockets slowly turning red. On the phone, Lam Mai was still crying: "Tuan, I'm the only one left. I can't leave you alone because of that woman." Ha Tuan suddenly raised his head. His voice was very quiet:

“Mom, I also have a son.”

The other end of the line suddenly went silent for a split second. The next second, Lam Mai screamed shrilly: "You dare!" Ha Tuan closed his eyes tightly and lowered his pen. His name, stroke by stroke, was signed on the request form. But I didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief. Because the moment he finished signing, a red notification suddenly popped up on the counter staff's computer screen. Her expression changed: "The system refuses to accept." My heart skipped a beat. The employee quickly pressed send again. The screen still displayed the same text: *"The current file is related to the freeze of resettlement compensation. Request the agency in charge of compensation and clearance to remove the link before it can be corrected."* The entire hall fell silent. Ha Tuan was stunned: "Why is this?" I looked at him: "You asked me?" The employee lowered her voice and explained: "The child's identity information has been assigned to the family compensation confirmation list of the ancestral house. Correcting the household registration will affect the compensation rate, so the system has been locked from the other end." The police immediately asked: "Which agency locked it?" The employee looked up for a moment: "Interdisciplinary Office for the Improvement of the Old West Quarter. The operator is Director Tien, he has submitted a request for synchronization." Chairman of Tien. It's him again. I suddenly understood why Lam Quoc Cuong said that without authority, it is impossible to do it again. They don't just play tricks at the civil registration counter. They have tied my son's name to the settlement compensation system. As long as the compensation freeze order is not lifted, my son will forever be stuck in the "waiting for confirmation" state. Ha Tuan immediately said: "I'm going to the Corrections Office." I gathered the papers: "There's no need for you to go." He quickly stopped me: "Duong Hoa, I've already signed. I really want to fix everything." I looked at him: "Signing your name is something you should have done from the beginning. It's not a ticket that gives you the right to stand next to me." His face was gray. After listening to a phone call, the police officer's expression became even more serious:

"Chairman Tien has not been found yet. But the Office of Rehabilitation said that at 10:00 a.m. this morning, the final compensation list will be reviewed. If it passes the review, the list will be officially sealed."

I glanced at the clock. Nine o'clock twenty minutes. From here to the Reclamation Office, it takes thirty minutes at the fastest. I grabbed my document bag, turned around and quickly walked out. Ha Tuan followed. I didn't bother to look back. Just as I walked to the lobby door, my phone suddenly received a photo. In the photo, baby An An is lying in a crib at my mother's house. The shooting angle is from outside the window. The accompanying message is just one sentence: