Chapter 7 — The Mother Who Stole Her Dream

I looked at Ha Minh Triet. He also looked at me, his eyes lowered. I said:

“Let me say it again.”

My younger brother started to get upset.

“What about the money my grandmother gave me?”

“Mom said if I didn't listen, she would go to school and cause trouble, making it impossible for me to perform.”

Just as the words ended, someone suddenly knocked lightly outside the coffee shop window. I raised my head. My academic advisor was standing outside, his face extremely unsightly. Apparently she heard the last sentence.

07

My academic advisor's last name is Lam. Normally, she speaks very calmly and rarely has a bad face in front of students. But that day, when she pushed the door open and walked in, her eyes were so cold that even I felt strange. She looked at me first.

“Khuong Le, don't be afraid.”

I nodded. Actually I'm not afraid. It's just that a person has been bullied for too long, when suddenly someone stands in front of him, his eyes become more easily irritated. My younger brother was still shouting on the other end of the line.

“Sister, why didn't you say anything?”

“Are you with the teacher?”

"I'm telling you, don't talk nonsense. Mom did it because she wanted to be good for you."

Miss Lam extended her hand.

“Is it convenient to give it to you?”

I gave her the phone. Ms. Lam turned on the speakerphone, her voice was not loud.

“She is Khuong Le's academic advisor.”

The other end of the line immediately went silent. Ms. Lam continued:

“Please convey to your mother that any behavior that affects a student's normal learning and performance will be recorded by the school.”

“If there are signs of threat, the school will contact the authorities to handle it.”

My younger brother hesitated.

“Miss, I was just joking.”

Miss Lam said:

“The banter will also be recorded.”

The call was quickly disconnected. Duong Duong immediately laughed coldly.

“Wasn't he still very overbearing just now?”

Miss Lam returned the phone to me, her eyes falling on the documents on the table. Ha Minh Triet briefly presented the situation. He spoke very clearly, without adding anything. Every payment, every contact, and every signed letter has a corresponding document. Ms. Lam's face became increasingly gloomy. Finally, she just asked me one question:

“Why didn't you tell the school before?”

I looked at her, my throat tight. What should I say? Say I think this is a bad thing in the house. Saying that I think no one will believe. Saying that even I myself thought that five hundred yuan a month might be enough, but I just didn't understand it enough. Duong Duong spoke first.

“Miss, it's not that he doesn't want to talk.”

"But I was scolded to the point that I didn't dare to speak anymore."

Miss Lam did not ask further. She stood up.

“Go, go to the academy office.”

I followed, my knees a bit stiff from sitting for a long time. Duong Duong immediately helped me. On the way, my phone vibrated more than ten times. Dinh Mai called, texted, then called again. I didn't listen to any calls. When she got under the academy building, she sent a text message.

“If you dare let outsiders interfere today, from now on, don't recognize me as your mother.”

I looked at that text and suddenly felt very calm. It turns out that threats heard too often lose their effectiveness. Just like eating white rice for too long, no matter how difficult it is to swallow, you can still swallow it. In the office, the dean was also present. After listening to Ms. Lam recount the situation, the dean looked at my skinny wrist, then looked at the file practice. He was silent for a long time.

“Khuong Le, the academy will advance your performance expenses.”

I raised my head.

“No need.”

My voice is stronger than I thought.

"That's the money my grandmother left me. I'll pay it myself."

Ha Minh Triet nodded.

“The procedure can be completed today.”

The dean looked at me, his eyes filled with sympathy.

“So first you have to make sure you eat well.”

“The main dancer cannot rely on starvation to support himself.”

That sentence made Duong Duong's eyes turn red. She said in a low voice:

"Teacher, he really only eats white rice every day."

The office was silent. It's not that everyone hasn't encountered difficult students. But few people have ever seen a student being deliberately pushed into such obvious poverty by a relative. At noon, Ha Minh Triet took me to the bank to complete the procedure. When the new card was delivered to my hand, my fingertips were still a little numb. When the bank employee announced the balance, Duong Duong standing next to him immediately covered his mouth. Not a huge number. But enough so that in the next few years I won't have to calculate even the fraction of a bowl of rice. I don't laugh. Only keep your card in the innermost compartment of your wallet. That position used to hold a small photo of my grandmother. The photo is old, the four corners are slightly curved. I placed the card and photo next to each other. It was like my grandmother finally held my hand again. In the afternoon, returning to school, I went to the finance department to pay the performance fee. After receiving the notification, the class president sent a message to the group: Khuong Le has paid. The group was silent for a few seconds. Not long after, someone spoke up to appease. There are also people who say try harder. The people who used to laugh at me for eating white rice in the morning no longer spoke up. I didn't look long, turned off the group chat and went to the practice room. The moment the music started, for the first time I felt that the floor under my feet was no longer as cold as before. But when the practice session ended, Ms. Lam suddenly walked in. She stood at the door calling me.

“Khuong Le, your mother is here.”

My hand is still on the rail. Duong Duong's expression immediately changed.

“Does she really dare to come?”

Miss Lam looked at me and lowered her voice.

“She didn't come alone.”