Chapter 13 — Voices Behind the Dark Room

Seeing me, he stopped. “I took back the keys and access to my parents' phone.” I said, “That's what I have to do.” He smiled bitterly. “I know.” During the trial, the lawyer on the other side tried to shift the focus to my feelings. They said I was busy with work, and although my income was stable, I lacked the support of my extended family. They said Luong Thua Trach was ready to move out and be ready to provide better medical resources for the child. They also said that the child is still young and should not be instilled by the mother's fear of the father's family. My lawyer submitted each document one by one. Minutes of judgment. Video and audio recording. Rehabilitation center cameras. Photo of storage room. Minutes of conciliation. Order of protection. Along with Duong Duong's drawings and expressive records during the process of professional intervention. The atmosphere in the courtroom became heavier little by little. The judge asked Luong Thua Trach. "Do you admit that you closed the door when the child asked for help?" Luong Thua Trach closed his eyes. "Admit." The lawyer on the other side tried to interrupt but was stopped by the judge. Luong Thua Trach continued: "At that time I shied away from responsibility." "At this stage, I am not suitable to take care of her alone." I didn't look at him. Because this truth that came too late cannot change the two years that Duong Duong lost. After the trial, the judge announced that Duong Duong should be temporarily placed under my care. Visits must be psychologically evaluated and conducted under the supervision of a professional. When I walked out of the court, the bright sunlight made my eyes hurt. I thought I could finally take a breath. But at that moment, Ms. Manh's phone call came. She lowered her voice very low. "An Ninh, today Duong Duong drew a picture again." "In the picture there is a storage room." "There are not only three people outside the door." "She drew a person holding a phone and turning around." 16 I held the phone and stood on the steps outside the court. The bright sunlight fell, but my fingers were so cold they were numb. After saying that, Ms. Manh did not urge me anymore. She just said softly on the other end of the phone: "Come here first, let's see together." When I rushed to the rehabilitation center, Duong Duong was sitting in front of a small table. The picture was placed in front of the child. The small black house takes up half a piece of paper. The little person in the house was holding a rabbit, huddled in the corner. Outside the door stood grandfather, grandmother and father. Further away, there was a tall, thin person. That person holds a square object in his hand. Duong Duong used a black crayon to draw many lines on the side. Similar to the sound. Just like laughter. I squatted next to my child, trying to keep my voice low. "Duong Duong, who is this person?" Duong Duong looked at the picture, pursed his lips for a moment. "Miss." My heart suddenly sank. The Luong family does have a youngest daughter. Luong Nhuoc Tinh. She works elsewhere and doesn't come home many times a year. But about two years ago, she just quit her job and stayed home for exactly a month. At that time, I was busy with a project, leaving early every day and coming home late. I thought that with one more person in the house, Duong Duong would be better taken care of. Turns out it wasn't. Ms. Manh did not let me continue asking. She took out a blank sheet of paper, then placed a few more character cards. "Duong Duong, if you don't want to say it, you can point." Duong Duong's small hand placed on the "aunt" card. She pointed at the card with the phone's picture on it again. Then softly said: "Turn." My throat tightened. “Are you turning to Duong Duong?” Duong Duong nodded. The girl said again: "Laugh." Ms. Manh recorded it all. She asked very slowly. "After filming, who will I show it to?" Duong Duong raised his head and looked at me. She seemed afraid that I would be sad, her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. "Dad." My eyes went dark. Luong Thua

Trach is not unaware. He also didn't just listen to one sentence. He watched. He always knew. I hugged Duong Duong in my arms, not letting her see my expression. But she reached out and touched my chin. "Mom, it hurts?" I closed my eyes and forced the tears back in. "It's not painful." "Mom, I'm just angry." She leaned in my arms and said in a low voice: "Duong Duong is not ugly." My heart felt like it was being squeezed. "Of course Duong Duong is not bad." "Bad people are the people who bully you." The lawyer quickly went to the rehabilitation center. After seeing the picture and the minutes, she immediately told me to contact Luong Thua Trach. "Ask him if he has ever received a related video." "Don't argue." "Let him speak for himself." I called and pressed record. Luong Thua Trach answered the phone very quickly. "An Ninh, how is Duong Duong?" I did not answer his polite answer. "Two years ago, Luong Nhuoc Tinh took a video of Duong Duong being locked in the storage room, right?" The other end of the line suddenly went silent. This silence is clearer than any excuse. I continued to ask: "Did she send it to you?" Luong Thua Trach's breathing became heavy. "I was in a meeting at that time." "I didn't open it all." I laughed. "So you saw the first part."