Chapter 15 — The One Who Counts Bridges

The public dialogue was held in the ward's cultural house, where the font "Family Festival" was still hung on the stage. Below, the Infrastructure Department placed six tables, each with a file and a bottle of water. People sat in two rows of chairs, many carrying photocopies of clearance papers, some holding house keys, some just carrying wet raincoats.

Linh An was not invited as an employee. The invitation listed her as “representative of the resident group providing technical feedback.” She knew that was the Infrastructure Department's way of avoiding naming the investigation, but still came with Yen, Khai and Mrs. Van.

Mr. Minh sat at the chairman's table, Huy sat on the right, Hung on the left. When he saw Van, Minh stood up to greet her, but she just nodded.

“We have two hours,” Minh began. “The goal is to explain the project scope, support options and questions about the walkway under the bridge.”

A man below said: "Two hours is enough for you to read the paper. We have waited twelve years to speak."

Minh held the microphone and looked down. “Everyone is invited to register to speak.”

Yen put the list on the coordination table, asking each person to have five minutes, to speak by name or anonymously, and to have a record of each opinion. Hung objected to the recording, saying this was an internal meeting. Van turned to him.

“If it's internal, why call the people here?”

Hung did not reply. Minh agrees to public recording, but does not broadcast it live without editing. Yen nodded, turned off the broadcast phone, and switched to the recorder placed on the table.

The first person is Ms. Hao. She stood up, clasping her hands together. She didn't talk about the paint mark or the company. She said that during the flood season that year, her son went with Linh An's father across the stone steps, and from then on she always knew there was a way under the bridge. When asked if she had identification, she laughed.

"I have a son. He's sitting in the third row. It's my paper."

Hung said personal memories do not replace technical records. Ms. Hao replied: "Technical documents cannot pull people across the country."

The applause was not loud, but spread through the rows of seats.

The next person is Thanh the welder. Please allow me to use my real name. He told about the Moc-07 sensor, the transfer of equipment to the warehouse and the order to cut the ladder. Hung asked if he directly heard Huy's orders. Thanh said yes. Huy asked the time, he said he couldn't remember exactly.

“So your testimony is not trustworthy,” Hung concluded.

Thanh turned towards the people. "I don't remember the time. But I remember my hands were covered in cement while cutting the ladder. No one paid me to remember that wrong."

Linh An recorded the statement, but did not add it to the technical file. It is a worker's truth, not a measurement.

Inspector Thuan presented the photo with serial number Moc-07 and the scene report. He said the device existed, but could not confirm where the final data came from. Hung asked why his group entered the old warehouse without permission.

“I wasn't there when they came in,” Thuan replied. “I only recorded what I saw afterward.”

Hung continued asking: "So what is the value of the sensor box image?"

“Device verification value. Does not automatically prove fraud.”

Linh An sees many people disappointed. They want a piece of evidence that instantly turns into an answer. Thuan does not give them that comfort.

When it was her turn, Linh An placed three maps on the screen: project map, current status map and water line map. She didn't use effects, just stacked three sheets of paper one after another.

“Project map records nine main spans and no eastern connection. The current status map adds an eight-steel span, a bridge foundation and four access points. The waterline map shows a different direction of rise than the project scenario.”

Hung asked: “Are you a licensed structural expert?”

“I am a current map expert.”

“So do you have the right to conclude that the tenth bridge is safe?”

“I don't conclude it's safe. I concluded it exists and must be evaluated.”

“Can you legally distinguish a temporary structure from a bridge?”

“I can point out the deck, the railing, the foundation and the approach. Classification is up to the competent authority.”

“You're pushing the responsibility.”

“I'm in the right place.”

Huy asked for a microphone. “Ms. Linh An, you know the project has an alternative plan. Why is the ramp still called a rescue road?

“Because of the alternative going through your company's gate, the road is sinking and the land is being leveled.”

“The gate will open upon request.”

“Who keeps the key code?”

“Operations team.”

“Which team?”

Huy did not answer immediately. A person below said loudly: "Your team."

Huy looked down. “The key is managed according to the process.”

Linh An did not pursue. She understood many questions without needing to be asked twice; the listener recorded the gap.

Ms. Van was invited to speak. She didn't carry a map, just a book to record the time. Mr. Minh saw it, his face tensed up.

“I'm Nguyen Van, selling rice at the Old Wharf,” she said. “I signed a statement after the Seventh Bridge collapsed. The signature is mine, but the last line is not what I said.”

Hung immediately stood. “Please do not post unverified content.”

Van looked at him. “I know my words.”

“Do you have the original?”

“There's a copy I keep.”

“That version has not been confirmed by the agency.”

“So today I speak in front of everyone.”

She told about the time of the flood siren, the connection, how Father Linh An saved people and the amount of support. She said she signed because her daughter needed leg surgery, but did not say who forced her by hand. She only said that the person who gave the paper said the money would not be disbursed if she did not sign.

“I did not sign to make my husband wrong,” she finished. “But my signature was used like that.”

The meeting room is quiet. Linh An looked at her mother, not knowing whether to be proud or heartbroken.

Minh holds the microphone. "I confirm that Ms. Van was present during the support session, but the content of the paper needs to be checked again."

“Are you present at the meeting?” Linh An asked.

Minh looked at her. “Yes.”

“Did you hear what she said?”

"Have."

“Did you know the last line was added?”

Minh did not answer immediately. Huy looked at him, Hung lowered his eyes.

“I know the minutes form has been adjusted,” Minh said. “I don't directly fix it.”

“But you don't object?”

“I have no right to approve people's testimony.”

“Do you have the right to prevent a statement from being changed?”

Minh held the microphone tighter. “I didn't.”

The acknowledgment is not loud, but clear.

Huy stood up. “I object to turning a technical dialogue into an individual accountability session. The project has supported the region for many years. If we keep turning over old papers every day, the city won't be able to build anything."

Khai would like to speak. He didn't hold the file, just took a bolt from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“I'm not against building bridges,” he said. “I object to using the bolts of the old tree as evidence for the new tree. Our crew is owed money for two months. When we asked, they said we had to complete the concrete pouring. When we asked for help household, people say it does not belong to the category. The building may be big, but the people who build it still need to get paid and know what they are building.”

A woman below asked Huy when the gate would open. Huy responded when given orders. Others asked who would be responsible if the old way collapsed. Hung said its use is not recommended. Another person asked why the notice to clear Van's house listed a lack of area. Minh promised to check.

Two hours passed but the list was still long. Yen proposed setting up an independent inspection team including inspector Thuan, representatives of the construction team, residents and the Infrastructure Committee. Hung objected because people did not have expertise. Linh An said people do not need to sign the structure, they need to check the paths they actually use.

Finally, Minh agreed to make a petition, but did not commit to stopping the project. Huy signed to confirm receiving questions about the lock code and device. Hung notes not admitting responsibility.

After the meeting, Ms. Van stood outside the yard, watching people lining up to ask for photocopies of the minutes. An old lady asked Linh An if she could mark the way for wheelchair users. Linh An said she would come to her house to measure.

“Did you hear what I said?” Van asked.

“Okay.”

“Is that enough, Mom?”

"Are not."

“I know.”

“But mom said.”

Van looked at her daughter. “Where do you want me to tell you everything?”

“Where someone makes a record.”

“Then go see the police.”

Linh An did not expect her mother would say that herself. She nodded.

In the evening, Yen listened to the recording again. At minute 47, when Van talked about the person delivering the paper, the microphone picked up the sound of Hung pulling a chair. It's unclear, but the sound matches a part of an old cassette tape: the same three sounds of metal hitting metal.

“It could be the chair,” Yen said.

“Maybe.”

“You don't plan to use it?”

“Not without knowing.”

Khai sent a photo of a new cable pulled from the construction site warehouse to the manhole. The cable is labeled M07, but the photographer said the construction team is covering it with concrete.

Linh An called Mr. Minh. He didn't listen. She called a second time, and he texted: "Procedures to open the gate are in progress."

Ten minutes later, the rain began to fall heavily. The water level is forecast to exceed alarm three tomorrow night, not two days from now.

Linh An looked at the public record on the table. They just spent two hours saying things that should have been on the record. Water only needs a few minutes to prove which map is correct.