Chapter 24 — Unclosed Profile

Thao Vy stepped onto the witness stand and swore to the court that she would tell the whole truth. She looked around the courtroom once - the solemn jury, the defendant's row where Ms. Yen, Pham Anh Tuan, Mr. Thinh, Hoang Anh Kiet sat, and further, in the auditorium, the warm, supportive eyes of Bao Nam, Minh Duc, Mr. Sau, and Mr. Hai.

"Can you explain to the court the detailed discovery of the first piece of evidence linking the current case to your father's case twelve years ago?" Prosecutor Mai asked, her voice gentle but clear.

Thao Vy took a deep breath and began to tell the whole story — from the first night at the crime scene, discovering the small wooden necklace, to the moment she turned over her father's old files and realized the match couldn't be a coincidence. Her voice initially trembled slightly, but gradually became steadier and more coherent as she sank into the memories of a long journey.

"My father, investigator Dang Van Hung, spent his entire career pursuing justice," she said, her voice filled with emotion but still maintaining the necessary control. "He died in the middle of investigating this case, in an 'accident' that I have always suspected for the past twelve years. A recent re-examination report confirmed that it was in fact a deliberate, elaborately disguised murder."

She presented in detail the technical inspection report and Pham Anh Tuan's testimony directly confirming the intervention in the vehicle's brake system. The whole courtroom listened silently, a few people in the audience could not hide their emotions at this painful but also extremely resilient story.

When it was Ms. Cao Thi Yen's defense lawyer's turn to question her, he tried to attack her objectivity. "Are you the daughter of the victim in the old case? Does that affect the objectivity of your investigation and assessment work?"

"I admit, I have a deep personal connection to this case," Thao Vy replied, her voice calm but firm. "But every professional conclusion I make is based on objective scientific evidence, independently confirmed by other experts, and is not based on personal feelings. If anything, it is that connection that makes me even more careful and meticulous to ensure absolute accuracy, avoiding any errors that could affect the fairness of the case."

The lawyer couldn't find any loopholes to continue questioning, so he had to sit down. The judge, after listening to all the testimony, looked at Thao Vy with eyes full of respect. "Thank you for your clear and complete presentation to the court. Your testimony, along with the accompanying scientific evidence, provided a comprehensive, in-depth view of the entire case."

As she left the witness stand, Thao Vy felt a wave of intense emotions - relief, pride, and even the pain that was still intact, all blended into a feeling that was difficult to fully describe in words.

Stepping out of the courtroom, Thao Vy could barely stand, but immediately, Bao Nam was there, supporting her in his warm arms. “You did it,” he said, his voice filled with undisguised pride. "You did great, better than I could have imagined."

"I'm shaking so much," Thao Vy confessed, her voice still calm Still emotional, "but I feel like I've said everything I needed to say."

Mr. Sau and Mr. Hai also approached, both unable to hide their emotions. "You told your father's story in the most complete and sincere way," Mr. Hai said, his voice choked. "Investigator Hung is definitely proud of you somewhere."

Minh Duc, standing behind, also contributed, a bright smile on his face. "The defense attorney could not find any loopholes to attack her. This is a big victory for the entire case."

The group left the courthouse together in the late afternoon, the air filled with relief and hope after a long, emotional day. Thao Vy immediately called her mother to tell her the news. “I'm done testifying, Mom,” she said, her voice still shaking but full of joy.

"I'm very proud of you, Thao Vy," Mrs. Hoa replied, her voice choking over the phone. "Your father certainly does too."

The court announced a two-day recess before entering into closing arguments and sentencing, allowing both sides to prepare their closing arguments. For Thao Vy, these are two days for her to rest and regain strength after a stressful but also extremely meaningful testimony journey.

On the first day off, Bao Nam suggested taking Thao Vy for a walk in the park, a way for the two to temporarily put aside all stress and enjoy rare moments of peace. The two walked along the tree-lined path, the fresh air dispelling some of the fatigue accumulated over the past few days.

"Do you think, after the trial ends, how your life will change?" Bao Nam asked, his voice mixed with curiosity and concern.

"I think, I will continue my forensic work, but perhaps, I will no longer have to carry the burden of twelve years of waiting," Thao Vy replied, her voice thoughtful. "I hope I can focus more on the present, on the future, instead of always looking at the past."

"That's a beautiful thought," Bao Nam said, smiling. "And I hope, I can be a part of that future, if you let me."

Thao Vy turned to look at him, her eyes filled with tenderness. "I really hope that," she replied, her voice sincere, holding his hand tightly as they continued to walk under the cool green trees, temporarily forgetting all their worries to fully enjoy this rare moment of peace together.

On her second day off, Thao Vy spent time visiting her father's grave again, this time with a completely different mood - no longer anxiety and nervousness before the trial, but a sense of relief and pride after completing the most important part of her work.

"Dad," she said, placing a fresh bouquet of flowers on the grave, "I've finished testifying. I've told everything, told the whole truth about you. Now I'm just waiting for the final verdict from the court."

She sat down by the grave and told her father about Bao Nam, about the budding love between the two, and about the long, arduous yet meaningful journey she had gone through. "I think Dad will like him," she said, smiling slightly between tears of emotion. "He's upright, dedicated, just like dad."

The afternoon sunlight gently shines down, creating a peaceful, warm scene in the quiet cemetery. Thao Vy sat there for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of deep connection with her father deceased, before standing up, mentally preparing for the upcoming sentencing day — the day that will officially end her family's twelve-year journey of seeking justice.

On the way home, she stopped by to visit her mother and told her about the visit to her father's grave and what she had confided in him. Mrs. Hoa listened, her eyes filled with emotion and pride. "Your father is definitely smiling, watching you from above," she said, holding her daughter's hand tightly.

"I believe so too, mom," Thao Vy replied, resting her head on her mother's shoulder in a rare moment of peace. "I feel that, regardless of the outcome of the trial, I have accomplished the most important thing — telling the whole truth, without hiding anything."

"That's what your father always wanted," Mrs. Hoa said, her voice warm. "The truth, no matter how painful, is always better than a long silence and lies."

That night, when she returned to her room, Thao Vy opened her notebook and wrote the last lines before the verdict: "Tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, the official verdict will be announced. No matter what the result, I have done my best, dad. I believe, justice will be served, and this twelve-year journey will, in the end, find a worthy end."

She closed the notebook and placed it next to the small wooden box where all the records and memorabilia related to her father were kept. Looking out the window at the gentle moonlight illuminating the familiar small street, Thao Vy felt a deep peace that she had never felt so completely in the past twelve years. Tomorrow, no matter what the verdict is, she knows she has done everything she can to bring her father the justice he deserves, and that is the most important thing, beyond any specific results of the trial.