Chapter 14 — The Mother Who Stole Her Dream

Duong Duong looked at me, his eyes were red but he smiled.

“Very beautiful.”

My mother looked like she had been stepped on in a painful place and rushed towards me, trying to hit me.

“You still dare to post!”

The security guard promptly stopped her. When pulled out, the cloth bag fell to the ground. A stack of papers rolled out. Got my old transcript. Have a copy of your grandmother's medical records. There are also a few money transfer documents that have turned yellow. Ha Minh Triet bent down to pick up a sheet. His face suddenly changed. I asked:

“Is something wrong?”

He did not answer immediately but compared that document with the statement in the file bag. A few seconds later, he raised his head to look at my mother.

“Miss Dinh.”

“Did you also withdraw this money that year?”

My mother's lips immediately lost all color of blood. My heart tensed.

“What money?”

Ha Minh Triet said in a low voice:

“Before she passed away, her grandmother left behind more than just living expenses.”

“She also sent a separate security deposit for treatment and training.”

My mother screamed.

“No!”

“That's the money she gave me!”

At that moment, Ha Minh Triet's phone rang. He looked at the caller and then answered the phone. After only listening for a few seconds, his expression completely darkened. After hanging up, he looked at me.

“The recording has been restored.”

“In it, your grandmother mentioned that Dinh Mai didn't just take money.”

“She's hiding something more important from you.”

15 After Ha Minh Triet's words, the hallway was so silent that only the sound of my mother's heavy breathing could be heard. As if she had been stripped of a layer of skin in front of everyone, the pitiful look created by the tears on her face disappeared completely.

“What recording?”

She screamed.

“Can the words of the dead also be used as evidence?”

Ha Minh Triet looked at her.

“Whether it can be used as evidence or not will be judged by the competent person.”

Miss Lam immediately asked the security room to take my mother and younger brother to the meeting room. Manh Tinh was also called. Her face was ashen, her hand still clutching the hem of her shirt, as if she finally understood that what she was handing over was not an envelope but a knife. I sit in the back of the meeting room. Duong Duong sat next to him, still holding the medical certificate in his hand. My ankle was pre-treated, an ice pack was wrapped in a towel and placed on it. Very cold, also very painful. But my heart is even colder. Ha Minh Triet connects the phone to the speaker in the meeting room. He didn't play the recording right away but looked at me first.

“This recording was given to me by your grandmother when she was alive.”

“She said if one day I was forced to the point where I couldn't continue dancing, please play it for me.”

My fingertips trembled slightly. Duong Duong held my hand. I nodded.

“Open it.”

At first, the recording only contained background noise. Then came my grandmother's voice. At that time, she was probably very sick, her breathing was weak, but every word was extremely clear.

“Le Le wants to dance.”

“She's not joking.”

“When it dances, there is light in its eyes.”

I bowed my head, my eyes immediately heated up. It's been many years since anyone talked about me like that. My mother just said dancing lessons cost money. Tell girls not to be too aggressive. Speaking of getting married later, these things are useless. The recording continued to play.

“The money I saved over the years was left to Le Le.”

“Tuition, meals, medical treatment, buying dance shoes.”

“No one is allowed to use it for anything else.”

“Dinh Mai, If you dare to touch this money, even if I die, I won't feel at ease."

My mother suddenly stood up.

“Turn it off!”

The security guard kept her.

“Please sit down.”

She couldn't escape, she could only glare at me. I don't look at her. Because in the recording another voice appeared. It's my mother. A little younger than now, but still just as jarring.

“It's easy for me to say.”

“She's a girl, why learn to dance?”

“There is a son in the house to raise.”

Grandma coughed for a long time. When he spoke again, his voice sounded like it had been sandpapered over.

“He is not born to give way to anyone.”

“I left him something else.”

My mother immediately asked:

“What?”

Grandma did not answer her, but spoke into the recorder:

“Le Le, if you hear this, remember.”

“At the age of sixteen, I never failed the youth training class of the Nam Thanh Dance Troupe.”

My breathing immediately stopped. Youth training class of Nam Thanh Dance Troupe. That name was like a needle piercing an old wound that seemed to have scabbed over. When I was sixteen years old, I secretly took an exam. After taking the exam, I waited half a month. Then my mother said I didn't pass. She said I had no talent. Said the teacher didn't take me seriously. Tell me not to keep daydreaming. I cried all night because of that, but the next morning I still went to practice as usual. Since then, I never mentioned the youth training class again. In the recording, the grandmother says word for word:

“I passed.”

“Still ranked first.”

“They gave me a full training spot.”

“But your mother signed the waiver for you.”

The meeting room was as silent as death. My mother's face was completely pale.