Chapter 10 — The Thirteenth Desk Drawer

Ms. Mai Huong asked Tuong Vy to open the letter in the presence of her, Mr. Quang and the inspection representative. The letter was old, the paper was yellow but the words were still clear. Mai wrote that she did not want to accuse Hoang Lam. She knew Lam brought the money box to the gate because Mr. Phuc said it was a way to save funds before parents came to check. Lam said he would put the money in a temporary account, but then the money was transferred.

“I know Lam is scared,” Mai wrote. "I'm scared too. But if I sign to admit my mistake, the money will never come back. If I don't sign, others will say I'm arrogant and like to make a big deal out of things. I don't know how to choose without hurting anyone."

At the end of the letter was a sentence: "If you read it, please tell the teacher that the report dated September 18 was edited before they close the desk."

Tuong Vy cried while reading. She said she kept the letter for twelve years because she didn't have the courage to open it. She used to believe that if she didn't know the content, she had no responsibility. Ms. Mai Huong said this is what many adults mistake: not reading a truth does not make the truth disappear.

Hoang Lam was invited to school. He is no longer the boy in the photo; He wore a suit and went with a lawyer. When he looked at table number 13, he paused for a long time. An Khe did not see the appearance of a winner, only saw a person who carried a heavy name.

“Do you accept the money box?” Ms. Mai Huong asked.

"Have."

“Who did you give it to?”

Hoang Lam looked at teacher Phuc, then at Tuong Vy. "I gave it to Mr. Phuc. He said he would transfer it to an escrow account."

“Do you know the money was withdrawn?”

“Knew after Mai was suspended.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

Hoang Lam smiled faintly. "Because Mr. Phuc said that if I reported, my scholarship application would be canceled. I am the child of a worker, I have no money to continue studying. I chose the scholarship. Later, I worked again for the company and sponsored the school. I thought that would make up for it."

Khoi asked: "Who are you compensating for?"

Hoang Lam did not answer.

He produced a small hard drive, saying he had saved a copy of the fund's data from that year. Mr. Phuc didn't know he was keeping it. The hard drive has a transaction list, but the last file is locked with a password. Hoang Lam said the password was what Mai said when leaving school.

An Khe remembered the recording: "I didn't take the money. I just found the book to prove it." They tried entering it, it wasn't correct. Khoi asked further: "Did you say anything at the bus station tomorrow?"

Hoang Lam said Mai only asked one question: "If one day you have enough money, will you be able to buy back the day you did wrong?" Password is “buy_return_moment_now”. Open file.

Data shows that about 28 million was transferred to Hoang Lam Company's account, but part of the 18 million was returned to three students' families. The remainder was transferred to an account in the name of Mr. Phuc's relatives. Hoang Lam admitted that he remained silent even though he knew that. He didn't take it directly, but he used his silence to build the company.

An Khe asked why he sponsored the scholarship for many years. Hoang Lam said that each scholarship is one time he tries to erase his feelings of guilt. But the more he sponsored, the more he was praised, while Mai was still called a money-taker. “I don't dare look for her,” he said. “I'm afraid she'll ask why I didn't say anything.”

Mr. Phuc stood up and was about to leave the room. Ms. Mai Huong asked him to stay. He said everything was too old to be brought up just because of a few documents. The homeroom teacher at that time, who still teaches at the school, walked in with the minutes she had kept. She said: "We pulled Mai out of school because we thought time would calm things down. Time doesn't make anyone more innocent."

Teacher Phuc looked at her. “You also sign.”

"Yes. I signed because I was scared. But today I didn't use my fear to force the students to keep quiet."

The meeting lasted until evening. The inspector requested to seal the file and invite teachers Phuc and Hoang Lam to work officially. Hoang Lam agreed to provide data. Tuong Vy asked to withdraw from the project, but Ms. Mai Huong said she did not need to decide right away. Adults must take responsibility with actions, not with a single cry.

In the hallway, An Khe asked Khoi if he felt lighter. He said not yet, because he still had to find Mai and verify the families who had not yet received money. An Khe laughed: "I thought you would say the table has been repaired."

"Tables can be fixed. People take longer."

“You said something unpleasant again.”

“I'm trying to tell the truth.”

The piece of paper in desk drawer number 13 that night did not foretell who would cry. It simply read: **The Truth Unlocked. But does the person whose name was called want to come back?**

An Khe held the piece of paper, seeing for the first time that the writer did not give directions. The writer is asking for her opinion. She placed the piece of paper next to Mai's photo and texted the old address in the envelope. Not knowing whether the letter would arrive or not, she still wrote: "We are trying to find the right way to tell the story. If you don't want to come back, we will respect it. If you want to speak, we will listen."

On Thursday, An Khe received a return letter. The envelope had a "recipient not found" mark on it. She took it to class and did not open it again. Khoi asked if he wanted to quit. She said no, because even the letter not arriving was information.

Tuong Vy suggests finding a new address through the alumni association, but Mai may not want to be found. The whole group agreed to only send a general announcement, without naming names, so that if Mai wanted to, she could contact herself. They post it on the school's internal news site and do not share it outside.

Two days later, an untitled email appeared. The sender just wrote: "I read it. Can't reply yet." An Khe did not ask further. She replied: "Just take your time. The file is kept safe." Khoi looked at her letter and said that sometimes doing the right thing is not asking for a quick ending.

That night, An Khe passed by block C. The fence reflected the light, the back was dark. She heard the sound of a chair being pulled across the tile floor. Khoi stood in the yard, holding the spare key. He said Ms. Hanh allowed them to check the door every day to prevent documents from being moved. Two people opened the door, checked the cabinet and closed it.

There was no new piece of paper in table number 13. For the first time, the silence did not worry An Khe. It's like a break for others to decide whether to enter or not.

No response for three days. An Khe checked her mailbox many times, then found herself being unreasonable. She didn't know who Mai was other than a name, but she waited for an answer like waiting for a relative. Khoi said waiting does not make the evidence stronger, but helps them remember that behind the profile there is a real person.

Ms. Hanh asked the group to establish working rules: do not post unverified documents, do not contact the named person yourself, and all meetings must be witnessed by an adult. Tuong Vy suggested one more rule: do not use the word "culprit" without a conclusion. An Khe wrote all three things on the board.

In class, rumors still run. Some people said that Mai took the money and dropped out of school. Some people say that Hoang Lam is just someone who was unfairly blamed for being rich. A classmate said this conversation had nothing to do with the current student. Khoi asked if tomorrow your name was wrongly written in a file, would you want someone else to say the same? He didn't wait for an answer.

An Khe started digitizing documents. She names files according to date, source and level of verification. Tuong Vy learned how to scan paper without reflecting the light bulb. Restore old computers. The work is slow and tedious, but each completed file makes the story less dependent on memory.

On Wednesday, an email arrived at Ms. Hanh's address. The sender did not write his name, only attached a photo of the statement. In the picture, there are three cash flows transferred to an intermediary account. The account is in the name of a student club led by Hoang Lam.

Mr. Phuc looked at the photo and confirmed his signature at the bottom of the page. He said the original must have been replaced, because the serial numbers on the paper did not match. Ms. Hanh asked if he could testify to that. He said yes, even though he knew it made him responsible.

An Khe wrote a second letter to Mai. This time she didn't ask what she wanted. She just said that the group had found some documents, the school was protecting them and she had the right not to answer. She also wrote that she did not need to thank An Khe, because listening was not a favor.

An Khe's mother read the letter and told her to send it by post and email. She asked what if Mai didn't want to come back. Mom said there are people who just want to know they are believed, and don't want to be a character in the meeting.

That night, a piece of paper in the desk drawer asked: "The truth has been unlocked. But does the person whose name was called want to come back?" An Khe did not immediately find an answer. She put it in the box, leaving a moment of silence for Mai.

The next morning, An Khe made a list of things they could not do: find Mai's address, publish her own photos, and answer for her. Tuong Vy finished reading and said this list was more difficult than a to-do list. An Khe said protecting the rights of others often starts with knowing you have no rights.

Khoi posted the list next to the scanner. Every time someone new came into the room, he showed them how to read. One friend asked why we had to be so careful when the incident was so old. Khoi replied that old things can still hurt current people if we hold them the wrong way.

At the end of the day, the anonymous email added a line: "Thank you for not calling me a hero." An Khe did not know whether the sender was Mai or someone else. She didn't ask. There are words of thanks that also need to be kept separate.