Chapter 4 — The Mother Who Stole Her Dream

04

The file bag is very thin, but when I hold it in my hand, it feels so heavy that my fingertips stiffen. The middle-aged man did not let go immediately. He looked at my face as if comparing it to a photo from many years ago.

“You look a lot like your grandmother when she was young.”

I lowered my eyes.

“Do you know my grandmother?”

“She is my trust client.”

He let go and took out a business card from his vest pocket. On the business card is written: Ha Minh Triet, Minh Triet Office. Duong Duong turned to look, the hand holding me tightened even more. She lowered her voice and asked:

“Is it really the person you said?”

I nodded. Ha Minh Triet looked at her.

“Are you Khuong Le's classmate?”

Duong Duong immediately straightened his back.

“I'm his roommate.”

Ha Minh Triet stopped for half a second.

“Did you send that photo yesterday?”

Duong Duong's face changed. She thought she was about to be scolded again. But Ha Minh Triet only slightly bent towards her.

“Thank you.”

Duong Duong was stunned. I was also stunned. Ha Minh Triet says:

“If it weren't for that photo, I wouldn't know how bad her life is right now.”

In front of the school gate, students pass back and forth non-stop. Someone realized I was the main dancer and looked curiously a few more times. I held my file bag close to my body.

“What's inside?”

“The trust papers your grandmother left behind, bank statements and data stored on a voice recorder.”

He spoke very slowly.

“Before she passed away, she left me a sum of money to use for tuition and living expenses, and requested to periodically transfer it to me each semester.”

My heart felt like someone was pressing hard on me. Duong Duong spoke first.

“Where is the money?”

Ha Minh Triet looked at me.

"That's also why I came here today."

I understand. A lot of things suddenly fit together in my head. After her grandmother passed away, Dinh Mai said she left nothing behind. She said she had used up all her savings for medical treatment. She told a girl learning to dance not to think only about money all day. She said if my family would let me go to school, I must know enough. I always thought that my grandmother really had nothing left. Turns out it's not impossible. But it couldn't reach me. I tightened my bag of documents.

“She took it?”

Ha Minh Triet did not answer directly.

“According to procedure, that money was originally managed by her mother, and when she turned eighteen, it had to be transferred to her personal account.”

I smiled softly. The smile is very pale and very cold.

“I'm twenty years old.”

“That's why I came.”

He handed over another card.

“This is a new bank card. Inside there are living expenses and performance expenses that you should have received this semester. The card has been opened in your name.”

Duong Duong opened his eyes wide.

“Should have accepted?”

Ha Minh Triet nodded.

"It's not a loan, it's not a charity. This is her money."

I looked at the card but didn't reach out to receive it. It's been so long since I've heard anyone say that something belongs to me. It took so long that those words fell on my ears, like a late rain. Tang Tang was impatient.

“Khuong Le, accept it.”

I raised my head to look at Ha Minh Triet.

“Why did you only find me now?”

After asking, his face darkened.

“I used to look for you.”

He took out his phone and opened a recording to show me.

“When she was eighteen years old, I called the number The phone your grandmother left behind.”

“The person answering the phone is your mother.”

“She said she didn't want to go back to her grandmother's side anymore.”

I closed my eyes. Dinh Mai can do that. So true to her style. Ha Minh Triet continued:

“I also sent certified letters, all of which had a signatory.”

“The person who signed is also your mother.”

Duong Duong blurted out a curse, then tried to swallow it again. I don't curse. My fingers slid over the edge of the file bag, touching the thick stack of papers inside. It's not money. It's the path my grandmother left me.

“Where was the photo sent yesterday?”

I asked. Ha Minh Triet looked at me.

“Transferred to a former colleague's phone.”

“He recognized you.”

“Because when she was alive, grandmother often showed us videos of her dancing.”

The bridge of my nose is stinging. I bowed my head, quickly suppressing my emotions. Can't cry at the school gate. Can't cry before Dinh Mai sees the truth. Ha Minh Triet says:

“This afternoon, I will meet with your academic advisor to explain your economic situation.”

“I will temporarily process the performance expenses, then deduct them from your account.”

I asked:

“Will Dinh Mai know?”

“She will know.”

He looked at me, his voice was calm.

“Because she was required to explain the payments.”

Just as I finished speaking, my phone rang. The name Dinh Mai appears on the screen. It was like she had timed it right. I looked at the call, but didn't answer the phone. The next second, she sent a text message.

“Who did you meet at the school gate this morning?”