Chapter 11 — The Inn at the End of the Pass

Two weeks after Khai Dang left, a shiny black four-seater car, different from the familiar vehicles that often travel on Vuc Suong Pass, parked in front of the yard of End of Pass Inn on a Monday morning. From the car stepped out a middle-aged man, neatly dressed in a business suit even in the middle of a remote mountain area, carrying a black leather briefcase, followed by two young employees holding thick files.

"Hello, I am La Duc Vinh, the officer in charge of compensation and site clearance work of the Vuc Suong mountain tunnel project management board." The man introduced himself, his voice professional, a social smile permanent on his lips. "I came here to announce the plan to hold a public meeting with the people of Back Deo village this weekend, at the town's cultural house."

Thao stood listening, her heart beating faster even though she had somewhat prepared herself for this moment after reading the news in the newspaper.

"What will the meeting be about, sir?" She asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"We will announce details of the project's scope of impact, compensation policy, and resettlement support for households in the area of clearance." La Duc Vinh replied, his voice still maintaining a cold professionalism, as if reading a script he had memorized through dozens of similar projects. "Your inn, according to the preliminary planning map, is located in an area that is likely to be partially affected, and may have to be adjusted in area or relocated depending on the final plan."

"What does partial impact mean? Is it losing part of the land, or losing the entire shop?" Thao asked urgently, her voice no longer able to maintain its original calmness.

"That depends on the detailed design plan, which is still in the final stage. We will have more specific information at the meeting." La Duc Vinh replied, gave Thao a thin brochure with pre-printed general policies, and then with two staff members continued to move to other households in the neighborhood to make similar announcements.

Before leaving the inn, La Duc Vinh stopped to look around the inn's scenery, with the professional assessment eyes of a person familiar with the job of valuing assets through many projects. He flipped through the file in his hand, comparing it with the actual location.

"Your shop seems to have been built a long time ago. Legally, do you have complete land and construction ownership documents? That will greatly affect the level of compensation later." He asked, his voice still purely professional, without any personal emotions showing.

"The shop was built by my father nearly thirty years ago, I still keep all the land documents." Thao replied, trying to keep her voice equally professional, even though inside she was feeling uncomfortable at the way this man talked about her house as if it were just a number on a spreadsheet.

"That's good. That will help the compensation process go more smoothly if it gets to that stage." La Duc Vinh nodded, jotted something down in the file, then closed his briefcase and prepared to leave. "Have a nice day to you and your family. See you at the weekend meeting."

Looking at the shadow of the black car leaving the yard, Thao stood still for a long time, still holding tightly the document she had just received. She opened it and glanced through it, seeing pages full of legal jargon, tables calculating support levels by area, by type of business, so dry that it made her feel like her whole life, and her father's enthusiasm, were being converted into cold numbers on paper.

News of the meeting spread quickly throughout Back Deo village that morning. By noon, almost every family knew about the story, and a buzzing atmosphere covered the normally quiet pass.

Mrs. Sau Hong, the owner of the grocery store, stopped by the inn that afternoon, her face filled with anxiety mixed with a bit of incomprehensible relief.

"Have you heard the news? There's a meeting this weekend." She said, sitting down on the chair, fanning her hands furiously even though it wasn't very hot. "I think, in any case, it has to be cleared. It's better to receive compensation early to get a high price. If it's too late, the policy will change and you'll be at a loss."

"Have you decided to accept compensation?" Thao asked, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm leaning more that way." Ms. Sau Hong replied, avoiding Thao's eyes. "You know, I'm old, I don't have the strength to hold on if the guests are fewer. With compensation money in hand, I can go down to the countryside and be near my children, so I can feel more secure in my old age."

Thao does not blame Ms. Sau Hong, understanding that each person has their own circumstances and calculations for their future. But hearing those words, she couldn't help but feel more alone in the battle she was slowly realizing she was about to face.

Late that afternoon, when seeing Mrs. Sau Hong leave, Thao stood hesitantly in front of the yard, looking along the familiar pass road, counting in her head the rooftops scattered around the neighborhood - Mr. Bay Trinh's house, Mrs. Sau Hong's grocery store, a few households growing vegetables and raising small chickens clinging to the stream of passersby. If everyone in turn chose to receive compensation and leave, would her inn, even if she tried to hold on, still have any meaning in the middle of an empty pass with no one in sight?

That evening, the whole family gathered around the dinner table in a rare, heavy atmosphere. Gia Binh, after hearing about the meeting, his face showed both worry and as if he was secretly calculating something.

"So the results are coming soon." He said, his voice low. "What do you think, if they offer reasonable compensation?"

"I haven't thought about accepting money and leaving, Binh." Thao replied, her voice determined. "I want to carefully research and see if there is a way to keep the shop and my neighborhood first, and then consider the final plan."

"But what if there's no way? How long are you going to cling to that vague hope?" Gia Binh asked, his voice starting to get a bit harsh again.

"I don't know. But I don't want to give up until I've tried everything." Thao replied, her eyes firmly looking straight at her younger brother.

The meal ended with unprecedented tension, each person carrying their own thoughts about the uncertain future that lay ahead. Thuy Duong, after helping clean up, quietly came to Thao and asked softly.

"Miss Thao, should I tell Uncle Dang about the meeting? Maybe he can help."

Thao was silent for a moment, her hand unconsciously touching the phone in her pocket, where Khai Dang's last message was still saved. She hasn't contacted him since the day he left, partly because she was busy with overwhelming worries, partly because she was still a little shy after the previous argument.

"I'll text him." She finally decided, opened her phone and texted the news about the weekend meeting, along with a hesitant question: "Can you attend? Maybe we need someone on our side who understands the project well."

The message was sent in the dark of night, carrying not only an invitation to attend the meeting, but also a small olive branch that Thao held out after stressful days, hoping that, although the road ahead was still full of thorns, she would not have to face it all alone.

Less than ten minutes later, the phone vibrated with a new message. "I'll be there. Don't worry, you're not alone." Just a short sentence, but enough to make Thao's chest calm down somewhat after a long and stressful day. She read and reread that message a few times before putting down the phone. The table lamp's light cast her long shadow on the wooden wall, along with the small shadow of her worries still intact, but no longer alone like before.

She looked out the window, where darkness had covered the entire valley, with only a few scattered lights remaining. In the past three years, since her father passed away and her stepmother left, this is the first time Thao has felt so clearly the feeling of having someone by her side, ready to stand on her side in an unequal battle. That feeling was both warm and scary, because she was so used to taking care of everything on her own that learning to rely on her, even just a little, became a strange thing that needed to get used to it all over again.

That night, before going to sleep, she took out her mother's recipe book, not to find any dishes, but just to flip through the pages, touching the familiar handwriting as if looking for a little peace in these tumultuous days. On the last page, her mother wrote a short line that Thao had read countless times in her life: "No matter what the road ahead is, remember to cook with all your heart, because that is the way to keep people here." Tonight, those words suddenly took on a new, deeper meaning than ever.