Chapter 18 — Three hours before the wedding, I locked the house as a dowry

Phan Khai Nam refused to admit it. The next day, he continuously sent several text messages.

"That fingerprint wasn't mine."

"If you have evidence, just report it to the police."

"Don't slander others."

But at that moment, La Nhue sent me a recording. It was a conversation that took place a week before the wedding. In the recording, Phan Khai Nam's voice was full of satisfaction:

“Tieu Nhue.”

“My mother arranged it all.”

“Aunt Khau has a signature.”

“There are also fingerprints.”

“The house seems to be in order.”

“Wait until the wedding is over.”

“Your sister-in-law is a proud person.”

“It definitely won't make a big deal out of it.”

The truly important thing comes from Tieu Lan Chu. She brought a small dark blue notebook. On the cover are written four words:

"Family Spending"

The first pages are written very normally. Cooking oil money. Electricity and water bills. Money for weddings. But after May. The records began to become more dense. Khai Nam lost capital to buy construction materials together: 38,000 yuan. Khai Nam paid Ly Cuong: 20,000 yuan. Khai Nam owes a material deposit: 64,000 yuan. Prepare a gift for meeting the La family: 18,000 yuan. Documentation cost for apartment 402 Nam Que Ly: 8,000 yuan. Furniture estimate for apartment 402: 23,000 yuan. I flipped further down. In the notes section. Each line of text appeared before my eyes:

"First we have to let Khai Nam move into apartment 402."

"Settle the La family."

"After the wedding, we will discuss adding names."

"Chu Tu Can is easy to talk to, sign first."

"I will not make a big deal out of Van Hoa's reputation."

The last line is written very strongly. The pen's strokes are deeply imprinted on the paper.

"Home cannot be lost."

"Khai Nam cannot collapse."

After reading the notebook. Tham Le says:

“This notebook can only be used as supporting evidence.”

“It's best to let Ton Thu Binh himself answer the numbers in there.”

In the neighborhood mediation room. I didn't mention the notebook. Just calmly ask:

“Does the loss from Phan Khai Nam's joint purchase of construction materials exceed 100,000 yuan?”

“Does the La family require a wedding house?”

“Did you transfer the 8,000 yuan for arranging documents for apartment 402 to Chuc Dong Nghieu?”

Ton Thu Binh almost reacted instinctively. She burst out:

“How do you know?”

Just that one sentence. I continue to ask:

“Fingerprints on the Joint Capital Contribution Statement...”

“Was it done by Phan Khai Nam?”

Ton Thu Binh immediately denied. I opened the recording of the conversation in the Nam Que Ly area. The sound rang out clearly. It was her voice. The name Khai Nam. After a very long silence. Ton Thu Binh finally bowed his head. Hoarse voice.

“The signature is imitated by Khai Nam.”

“Fingerprints…”

“It's because he used scraps of fabric from your mother's tailor shop.”

“Using red powder to create.”

My mother immediately covered her face with her hands. The conciliation officer, surnamed Mai, clearly stated in the minutes:

"The relevant circumstances have gone beyond the scope of community reconciliation."

"It is recommended that the parties handle it according to the law."

When walking out of the mediation room. La Nhue sent me another screenshot. That is a new post on Phan Khai Nam's circle of friends. He wrote:

"Someone forced me to the end."

"Then no one should expect peace."

Attached to the post. This is a photo of the apartment number plate: 402 - Nam Que Ly. After Ton Thu Binh admitted to forging signatures and fingerprints. My mother cried for a long time. She cried not only because of injustice. But also for everything all the fear that has been suppressed for the past few days. She was afraid that I would be scolded by others. I'm afraid I really signed the wrong papers. I'm afraid that because of one stroke of my pen, my house will be robbed. I hugged my mother. That's when I realized it. Mom was much thinner in my memory.

“It's okay, Mom.”

“This account has already been calculated.”

Mom just shook her head. Crying so much that I couldn't speak. Rain began to fall on the steps in front of the community center. Manh Mien held an umbrella to cover the heads of mother and child. Tham Le stood next to her. He didn't give tissues. Nor did he say words of comfort. He just quietly waited for us to finish crying. Then carefully put the conciliation minutes into a waterproof document bag. Look at that move. I suddenly felt very secure. True support... It's not about telling you:

"Don't be sad anymore."

But when you are sad. That person still remembers that the paper must not be wet by rainwater. The phone lights up. At that time I was still hugging my mother. A post on Phan Khai Nam's circle of friends is like a stone thrown into the water. I wiped the drops of water from my mother's face. I don't know if it's tears or rainwater. Then softly said:

“The rest...”

“Let me handle it.”

After receiving the conciliation minutes. Mom was determined to make another copy herself. She stood next to the photocopier. Look at each sheet of paper being printed one by one. The heat from the machine blows onto the back of your hand. But she did not avoid it. Mom is always afraid of paperwork. Fear of contracts. Fear of things you don't understand. And now. She understood one thing. Papers can also protect people. The prerequisite is... The words above must be true.