Chapter 7 — The Test Has No Name

Disciplinary Council

Three days later, the school's disciplinary council met in the conference room on the second floor, the wooden door was closed but not thick enough to prevent voices from echoing out into the hallway, where Ms. Dieu waited on a plastic chair, her hands clasped together, and Nguyen stood leaning against the wall, looking down at the tile floor.

Inside the meeting room, the principal sat in the middle, flanked by representatives of the provincial training department, the male supervisor who made the exam minutes, and Ms. Bich Loan as the homeroom teacher. The records of checking the school bag, the testimony of the two supervisors, and the stack of documents and evidence were placed neatly on the table.

"According to the minutes, documents containing content directly related to the structure of the exam were found in the back compartment of Huynh Dang Nguyen's school bag, in the pre-test inspection area, with confirmation signatures of two supervisors and a representative of the training department," the representative of the provincial training department read out loud, in a monotone voice like reading a regular administrative document. "Based on the scholarship exam regulations, this behavior qualifies as a violation of exam regulations, leading to cancellation of results and deprivation of Nguyen's right to take the exam this semester."

"Let me ask," Ms. Bich Loan spoke up, her voice cautious but firm. "Has anyone verified that the document was brought in by Nguyen herself, or simply found in her briefcase? These two things are not the same."

"In terms of regulations, responsibility for personal belongings belongs to the student who brings that bag into the exam area," the male invigilator replied. "We have no evidence that anyone else tampered with Nguyen's briefcase during the time the documents were found."

"But there's also no evidence that she intentionally brought it in," Ms. Loan argued, her voice raising a bit. "I've been teaching Nguyen for two years, and have never seen any signs of cheating in her, not even the slightest."

"Do you have any concrete evidence, or is it just based on feelings?" The representative of the training department asked again, his voice not harsh but enough to quell the argument of lack of evidence. "We understand the feelings between teachers and students, but the disciplinary council needs to be based on recorded incidents, not based on personal beliefs."

Ms. Loan remained silent, there was nothing to refute further. She knew she was right intuitively, but intuition is not evidence, and in a legal meeting like this, only evidence counts.

Outside the meeting room, Khanh Thu stood in the corner of the hallway, far enough away that no one would notice, close enough to hear every sentence through the slightly opened door. She had been standing there since the meeting began, many times trying to walk up to knock on the door, many times backing away, her hands clenching the hem of her uniform until it was wrinkled.

She thought of the image of Vy bent over table number one the afternoon before the exam, of his panicked eyes when the examiner opened the stack of papers, of his unusual calmness during the next three hours of taking the test. Each piece, when placed next to each other, formed a picture that she did not want to believe was true, but could not completely deny.

If I walked in now, what would I say? she wondered. That I saw Vy bending down near Nguyen's bag? But I didn't see clearly what he was holding, I didn't see what he actually put in his bag. If I say something wrong, I will destroy another innocent person, and my father will never forgive me for letting the Vo family get involved in a false accusation when the company needs to maintain a clean image to sign a big contract.

The thought of her father made her chest tighten. She remembered the way he looked at Nguyen the day he came to the house for group study - his eyes were searching, wary of anything that might disturb the family image he had worked so hard to build for twenty years. If she stood up and denounced another student based on a vague image seen from afar, and if it spread into a noisy incident in the local press, how would her father react? Will he take her side, or will he blame her for "getting involved in unrelated matters"?

She stood there, biting her lower lip, until the conference room door opened and everyone walked out. The principal took the lead, his face heavy. He stopped in front of Nguyen and Mrs. Dieu and cleared his throat.

"The council has come to a conclusion," he said, his voice trying to maintain a solemn tone but unable to hide his awkwardness. "Due to insufficient evidence to prove that someone else intervened, and based on current exam regulations, Nguyen's results were canceled and his right to participate in this scholarship exam was revoked. The school will also record a disciplinary warning in his school records, in accordance with regulations."

"No," Ms. Dieu stood up, her voice shaking with anger and helplessness. "My child didn't do that, teachers, he has studied well since childhood, so why..."

"I understand how you feel," the principal said, his voice softening but still maintaining his decision. "But this is the decision of the whole board, based on established regulations and evidence. If the family has new evidence, the school is willing to reconsider."

Nguyen said nothing. He stood dumbfounded, watching the principal walk away, watching the supervisor and the training department representative leave the hallway one by one, until only he, his mother, and Ms. Bich Loan remained standing behind, her face full of regret and equally helpless.

In the corner of the hallway, Khanh Thu saw everything. She saw Nguyen standing there, her shoulders slumped, her eyes red, but she tried not to let her tears fall in front of her mother. She saw Mrs. Dieu trembling and holding her son's hand, both mother and son leaning on each other like two tree trunks blown down by a storm at the same time. And in that moment, Khanh Thu understood more clearly than ever that her silence, although rooted in explainable fear, was still contributing to the pain that was happening right before her eyes.

But she still didn't step forward. She turned around and walked back towards the stairs, her steps getting faster and faster, as if running away from her own conscience, until she reached the schoolyard, she stopped, leaned her back against the poinciana tree, panted, tears suddenly flowed out and she couldn't explain why she was crying - because she loved Nguyen, or because she was ashamed of herself.

In class 12A, news of the disciplinary council's conclusion spread that afternoon, passed from table to table in whispers mixed with surprise and regret. No one in the class really believed that Nguyen had cheated — he was known as a stubbornly honest student, having publicly pointed out a scoring error in his favor on a test in Eleventh grade — but no one knew what to do about a decision passed by the "council," a phrase that sounded heavy and unshakable to eighteen-year-olds.

Vy sat in his usual place, listening to every word being discussed around him, feeling as if every sentence was a needle piercing his chest. Nhat Khoi, sitting nearby, turned to ask him, his voice full of frustration on his behalf.

"Can you believe it? Originally cheating is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Someone must have played a bad trick on him."

Vy nodded, trying to keep a normal expression. "Yeah... this is really strange."

He didn't dare look straight into Nhat Khoi's eyes when he said that, he just bent down and pretended to rearrange his books, his hands were still shaking slightly even though he had been trying to control them for the past few days. In his mind, the image of Nguyen standing dumbfounded in the hallway kept appearing, mixed with the image of his parents being happy to hear that he still had a chance to retake the exam the next time - because the scholarship, according to the training department's new announcement, would be reviewed between the two still qualified candidates, Vy and Khanh Thu.

That news, which should have made him relieved, made him even more suffocated. He realized he was facing a new choice, even more difficult than the choice the night before the exam: continue to stay silent, accept the opportunity that his own actions had created, or confess everything and accept losing everything - not only the scholarship, but also the trust of his parents, and the honor his family had worked so hard to build.

Late in the afternoon, Ms. Bich Loan happened to meet Khanh Thu standing alone in the school yard, her eyes still red even though she had tried to dry them a long time ago. She stopped and looked at her student for a moment before speaking.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle but with something searching in her eyes.

"Yes, I'm okay, just a little tired," Khanh Thu replied, turning away to avoid the teacher's gaze.

"Nguyen and I study in the same group a lot, I'm sure you were very shocked." Ms. Loan said, then paused for a moment, observing Khanh Thu's reaction. "If you know something, even if it's just a small detail, you should say it, Thu. Sometimes seemingly unimportant details are the necessary pieces to find the truth."

Khanh Thu tightened her bag strap, her heart beating so fast that she was afraid the teacher could hear it. "I... I don't know anything."

Ms. Loan looked at her for a few more seconds, didn't say anything more, just nodded and walked away, leaving Khanh Thu standing alone under the phoenix tree, feeling like the lie she just let out was clinging tightly to her chest, heavier than anything she had ever had to carry in her eighteen years of life.