Back home, Mai Ngoc
didn’t go to the bedroom. She walked straight to her husband’s study at the end
of the hall.
The door was ajar. Inside,
Minh Quan stood with his back to the window. On paper, he was the Deputy CEO of
External Affairs at Truong Sinh; over the past six years, it was that very
position that had let him steer Vinh An while burying every order beneath the
cover of legitimate business.
His phone sat on the desk,
the speaker on.
Do Quang Vu’s voice came
through from the other end.
“The signing’s blown. And
Lam Khai Minh is threatening to reopen the whole D-17 case.”
Minh Quan answered, his
voice level and cold.
“The boy’s about to turn
twenty. If we don’t deal with him now, it only gets harder later.”
“You mean silence him for
good?”
“He should have died six
years ago.”
Mai Ngoc gripped the door
frame. Her nails dragged across the wood, scraping out a small, dry sound.
Minh Quan spun around.
“Ngoc?”
He killed the speaker, but
too late. Mai Ngoc stared at her husband, her face drained white, her lips
trembling at a truth that had been living inside her own home for years.
“What did you just say?”
“You misheard.”
“Who was supposed to have
died six years ago?”
“You’re panicking after
what happened at the hotel. Go to your room and rest.”
Mai Ngoc stepped inside and
slammed the door shut behind her.
“Look at me and answer. My
sister and brother-in-law’s accident, was that you? And today, you’re the one
who gave the order to lock the boy in the house.”
Minh Quan said nothing.
“Lab Seven, that was you
too?”
“Ngoc, don’t push me into
saying things you yourself have been wanting all along.”
“Who was the person in the
red raincoat?”
Minh Quan looked at his
wife for a long moment. The everyday composure on his face slowly drained away,
revealing a weariness edged with contempt.
“What do you need to know
for? So you can run and throw your arms around your nephew and declare yourself
innocent?”
Mai Ngoc took a step back.
“So you really did it. It
wasn’t Truong Sinh Pharmaceuticals. You told me to hand over my sister’s
schedule so you could pass it to Truong Sinh… but that wasn’t it at all.
You were the one behind everything.”
“I only did what was
necessary.”
“Killing two people was necessary?”
“Thanh Ha wouldn’t sign.
She was even planning to take the D-17 files public. If that had gotten out,
Truong Sinh collapses, and Vinh An right along with it. You think your family’s
precious hospital has survived this long on your sister’s honesty?”
“Don’t drag the hospital
into this as your excuse.”
“You’re the one who wanted
the hospital in the first place.”
That line struck Mai Ngoc
dumb.
Minh Quan stepped closer,
dropping his voice.
“You handed me Thanh Ha’s
schedule. You told me she’d be at the lab that night. You knew Truong
Sinh’s people wanted to intercept her. And you did it anyway. Doesn’t that mean
part of you wanted her dead too?”
“I thought they were only
going to force her to hand over the files.”
“Hah… you thought.”
He curled his lip in a
sneering smile.
“For six years you’ve lived
on that one word. You thought the crash was an accident. You thought
the lab burned because someone got carried away. You thought bribing the
doctor was only to kill Khai Minh’s hope so he’d sit still and behave, and that
signing today was about saving the hospital. You’ve feasted on every benefit of
your sister’s death, and now you ask me why there’s blood on my hands?”
Crack.
A slap landed square across
her husband’s face. Minh Quan’s head turned with it; a few seconds passed
before he faced her again. His eyes had gone glacial.
“I was hungry for power. I
was a coward. I stayed silent when I should have spoken. But I never told you
to kill my sister.”
“No one cares what you did
or didn’t tell me. If this case gets reopened, the person with the clearest
motive is you. Your sister dies, you become director. Khai Minh goes
blind, you hold guardianship. Whose orders forged his eye records? Whose
account sent the money to Dr. Tran Loi?”
Each question was a shear
snipping shut the road she’d meant to run toward the light.
Mai Ngoc understood he was
right, cruelly, precisely right. She wasn’t innocent. Even if she hadn’t given
the order to kill her sister, she had, with her own hands, left far too many
tracks, enough that anyone could believe she was the mastermind.
Minh Quan softened his
voice and reached out to touch his wife’s shoulder.
“Listen to me. We still
have a way out. You keep silent. I’ll handle the Khai Minh problem. And when
it’s all behind us, Vinh An will still be yours.”
Mai Ngoc recoiled, dodging
that hand like she’d dodge a snake.
“You still mean to kill
him?”
“He won’t stop.”
“So anyone who won’t stay
silent has to die?”
“That’s how this world
works.”
“No.”
Mai Ngoc shook her head,
tears spilling over.
“That’s how you’ve
chosen to live.”
She turned and walked out.
Minh Quan didn’t chase her. He only stood in the study, listening to the front
door slam, then picked up his phone and dialed another number.
Mai Ngoc drove away from
the house with no idea where she was going. She thought of the police station.
She thought of returning to the Lam villa and dropping to her knees before Khai
Minh. But every direction dragged a different fear behind it. If she confessed,
she’d lose the hospital, lose her name, maybe end up in prison. If she stayed
silent, Minh Quan would kill her sister’s only child.
For years, Mai Ngoc had
cast herself as the one who’d been cornered, weighed down by guilt over her
sister’s greed and her rigid pride. It was easier to think that than to admit
there had been moments when the choice was entirely hers, and she had simply
chosen the side that served her best.
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