“Which little bastard…”
and shoved him so hard the
boy slammed to the floor.
“Who are you?! Where’s my
security?!”
Dong hugged his head,
shrieking from the pain. An Nhien came sprinting from the end of the corridor,
dropped to her knees, and gathered him into her arms, checking him over for
injuries while she lifted her head to glare at the group in front of her.
“What is wrong with
you people? He’s a patient. He’s in the middle of an attack!”
The young man turned his
head toward her.
He had a sharp face, a
straight nose, a tall frame, but his eyes were hollow, fixed on nothing at all.
An Nhien didn’t realize he couldn’t see, and her fury flared as Dong shook in
her arms.
“Who are you?”
“I’m his family. My brother
ran into you, and I’m sorry, but you have no right to knock a sick child to the
floor. Are you blind? Can’t you see he’s ill?!”
The words had barely left
her mouth when the air around them turned cold.
Khai Minh’s teeth clenched,
cords standing out on his neck, his fist tightening. A man beside him leaned in
and dropped his voice to a warning.
“Watch your mouth. This is
Young Master Lam, the heir to Vinh An Hospital.”
An Nhien faltered for half
a second, but her eyes stayed locked on Khai Minh.
“So he’s the heir. Money
and bodyguards give him the right to trample other people’s lives?”
Khai Minh heard the ragged
rhythm of Dong’s breathing, the sound of An Nhien stroking her brother’s back,
the crowd beginning to slow and gather to watch.
The child’s small hand
clutching at his clothes dragged him back to the moment he’d been trapped in
that burning car years ago. The panic surged up too fast, and it dropped his
voice colder than usual.
“Drag these lowlifes out of
here. Now.”
An Nhien had just started
to exhale in relief when he went on.
“Then process a transfer. I
don’t want to lay eyes on this trash in my hospital again.”
“On what grounds do you
throw out a patient?”
Unafraid, An Nhien shouted
it.
“On the grounds that this
hospital is mine.”
Khai Minh’s anger ran just
as hot.
Tran Huu Loc had heard the
commotion and came running. The instant he saw his son and daughter surrounded
by the bodyguards, he understood: his family had just crossed someone they
could not afford to offend. He hurried forward, bowing again and again.
“Young master, my son is
sick. He panicked. He didn’t mean to run into you. I’m sorry on his behalf.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Tran Huu Loc, head of
hospital security.”
“So a Vinh An employee lets
his own family cause a scene in the middle of my corridor?”
“The fault is mine. Please,
don’t transfer my son out. He’s waiting on specialized treatment. If he’s sent
elsewhere, my family can’t afford it.”
Khai Minh said nothing.
That silence terrified Loc
even more. He dropped to his knees right there in the middle of the corridor,
both hands braced on his thighs, his voice cracking apart.
“Young master, I’m begging
you. Dock my pay, punish me however you want, just please, let my son keep his
treatment.”
An Nhien had never once
seen her father kneel to anyone.
He was a poor man, but a
proud one, even the day her mother died, even with creditors standing at the
door, he had only ever said he’d repay every last đồng. He had never begged a
soul in his life.
And yet now, in front of
all these doctors, nurses, and patients, he laid his pride down on the tile
floor to plead with a punk nearly thirty years his junior.
“Dad, Dad, get up.”
“Be quiet.”
“You don’t have to kneel to
him. You don’t.”
Loc gripped his daughter’s
wrist, his voice nearly a whimper.
“An Nhien, your brother
needs to stay here.”
Khai Minh tilted his head
slightly.
He heard the man’s knees
hit the floor, heard An Nhien fighting to swallow her sobs, heard the rage in
every breath she took. But the layer of anger, and the old terror of being
touched, still wrenched a merciless line out of him.
“You don’t have to kneel.
I’ll have the executive committee suspend you today, and review whether to
terminate your contract.”
An Nhien shot to her feet.
“What gives you the right
to fire my father just because my brother bumped into you by accident?”
“The right of an owner.”
“Owning a hospital makes
you so big, does it? Big enough to decide whether other people live or die?”
“Take them away.”
The bodyguards stepped
forward. An Nhien clutched Dong and looked at Khai Minh with eyes full of
loathing and contempt. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel her silence, sharp
as a drawn blade.
That night, Loc sat at his
son’s bedside, his face buried in his hands.
Khai Minh’s order had been
carried out with unnatural speed: the suspension had been signed, and the
paperwork to end his contract pushed into the pipeline before the day was out.
Under the internal welfare rules, Dong’s hospital-fee subsidy would also be
reviewed at month’s end if Loc lost his employee status.
“I’m so useless. Nearly
twenty years I’ve worked here, and the one time you needed me, I couldn’t even
hold on to my job.”
“Dad, don’t say that.”
“Your brother’s inpatient
care runs over thirty million đồng a month, more than a thousand dollars. Where
am I supposed to find that now? Dong can’t go without his medicine.”
“I’ll work. Deliveries
during the day, an extra shift at a restaurant at night. We’ll ask them to
defer the fees and look for a support fund.”
“You’ve already dropped one
semester. I can’t let you throw away your whole future for your brother.”
An Nhien looked at Dong,
asleep now, his hand still resting on his head as if bracing against the pain’s
return. She swallowed her tears and spoke slowly, but with iron in it.
“As long as Dong still has
a chance to get well, I haven’t lost my future.”
That same night, at the Lam
villa, the lawyer Bach set the next day’s schedule on Khai Minh’s desk and
brought up what had happened at the hospital.
He had served the Lam
family for years, and was one of the few who dared to speak to Khai Minh
plainly.
“You fired Section Head Tran
just because his son bumped into you. That decision doesn’t hold water.”
“I don’t need you lecturing
me.”
“I’m reminding you that in
two months you’ll be running Vinh An directly. An owner can’t use his own fear
as a reason to punish his staff.”
Khai Minh said nothing.
Bach laid another file on the desk.
“You’ve dismissed three
assistants this week for taking money from other people. You need new hires.”
“Then handle it.”
“I’m afraid hiring won’t be
easy now, no one can get past an interview with you.”
“Post the listing today. No
interview. And this time, I don’t want another one of Mai Ngoc’s people.”
The lawyer nodded, gave a
small bow, and withdrew.
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