Chapter 5
The next two weeks were a whirlwind.
Mr. Tran and his team worked around the clock, building the case against my mother and brother.
Linh walked me through every part of the estate, teaching me how the businesses worked, introducing me to the people who’d run them for years.
My father moved into the house with me.
We fixed the broken lock.
We glued the photos back together.
We bought a new sewing machine, better than the old one.
And every night, we sat at the kitchen table and talked.
About my grandfather.
About the years we’d lost.
About what came next.
One afternoon, there was a knock at the door.
It was Minh.
My brother’s wife.
Or ex-wife, now.
She’d filed for divorce three days after the wedding.
She stood on my porch, holding a small stack of envelopes, her eyes red and swollen.
She was no longer wearing the expensive wedding clothes.
Just jeans and a plain t-shirt.
“Can I come in?” she said, her voice small.
I hesitated.
Then I stepped aside and let her in.
We sat at the kitchen table.
My father made us tea, then quietly left the room.
Minh pushed the envelopes across the table toward me.
“These are for you,” she said. “I found them in his things when I went to get my clothes from the apartment. Bank statements. Emails. Plans they made for your money. They were going to wait a month, then say you were mentally unstable because of the ‘adoption news,’ and get guardianship over you and the entire estate. I thought you should have them.”
I stared at the envelopes.
“Thank you,” I said.
It was all I could think to say.
She nodded, picking at a loose thread on her jeans.
“I’m not here just for that,” she said. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. Again. I knew they were hard on you. I knew your mother favored him. But I had no idea how bad it was. I had no idea they were capable of… of all that. If I’d known, I never would’ve married him. Never.”
She took a shaky breath.
“I’m pregnant,” she said.
My eyes went wide.
“The baby is real,” she said, tears spilling down her face. “That part wasn’t a lie. I’m three months along. It’s a girl. And I’m terrified. I don’t have any family here. My parents disowned me when I married him. I have no job, no money, nowhere to go. I don’t want anything from you. I swear. I just… I didn’t know who else to tell.”
She broke down, sobbing into her hands.
I sat there for a second, stunned.
Then I got up, walked around the table, and sat down next to her.
I put my arm around her shoulders.
“You don’t have to be alone,” I said.
She looked up at me, her eyes wet.
“What?”
“You’re having a baby,” I said. “That little girl is my niece. She’s family. Real family. Not the kind that hurts you. The kind that takes care of each other. You can stay here as long as you want. We’ll get you a doctor. We’ll help you get back on your feet. Whatever you need.”
She stared at me like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Why would you help me?” she whispered. “I’m his wife. I’m part of the family that hurt you.”
“You’re not part of them,” I said. “You’re just a person who got tricked, same as me. And you’re having my niece. That’s all that matters.”
She threw her arms around me and cried harder.
For a long time, we just sat there.
Two women who’d been hurt by the same terrible people, finding comfort in each other.
When she calmed down, I made her a sandwich and showed her the guest room.
She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, exhausted.
I went back to the kitchen and opened the envelopes she’d brought.
The papers inside were worse than I’d imagined.
They’d planned everything.
The fake adoption reveal.
The fake mother.
The forged house transfer.
And after that?
They were going to have me committed.
They’d found a corrupt doctor who was willing to sign papers saying I was delusional, suffering from a breakdown after finding out I was adopted.
Then my brother would become my legal guardian.
He’d control every penny of the three hundred billion.
And I’d spend the rest of my life locked in a private psychiatric hospital, forgotten.
I felt sick.
I’d thought the wedding was the worst of it.
Turns out, it was only the beginning.
If my father hadn’t contacted the lawyers.
If Mr. Tran hadn’t been there that night.
If the woman in the blue dress hadn’t recorded everything.
I would’ve lost everything.
Including my freedom.
May you like
I picked up my phone and called Mr. Tran.
“I have more evidence,” I said. “You’re not going to believe how bad it gets.”
