Chu Tu Nien frowned slightly.
—Why are you apologizing? You were the victim.
His voice was still as gentle as Ha Kieu remembered.
Gentle enough to make her fingers tighten around the little bag in her arms.
Three years ago, when she was pregnant and crying in front of him, he had never spoken to her like that.
Ha Kieu lowered her head even more.
Don’t look.
Don’t let him recognize you.
She repeated those words to herself.
But Diep So Am suddenly noticed her.
—Comrade, your scarf fell.
Ha Kieu’s body stiffened.
A wool scarf had slipped from her bag.
Before she could bend down, Chu Tu Nien had already picked it up.
His hand stopped.
The scarf was old.
Gray.
One corner had been embroidered crookedly with two characters.
Tu Nien.
Ha Kieu had embroidered them herself many years ago.
She had been so proud that she ran around the compound showing everyone.
Chu Tu Nien stared at the letters.
Then slowly raised his eyes.
—You…
Ha Kieu immediately snatched the scarf back.
—Thank you, comrade.
She deliberately lowered her voice.
Then turned toward the policeman.
—Can I leave now?
—After signing here.
She picked up the pen.
Her hand was much steadier than three years ago.
Chu Tu Nien continued staring at her.
Thin.
Pale.
Hair cut shorter.
The girl who once followed him everywhere had disappeared.
But those eyes—
He suddenly took one step forward.
—Ha Kieu?
The room went quiet.
Diep So Am’s smile froze.
Ha Kieu’s pen stopped for half a second.
Then continued.
She signed her name.
Ha Kieu.
Chu Tu Nien’s pupils contracted.
—It’s really you.
Ha Kieu closed the pen cap.
—Commander Chu.
Not Brother Tu Nien.
Not husband.
Commander Chu.
His expression changed.
—When did you come back?
—Today.
—Why didn’t you report to me?
Ha Kieu looked at him strangely.
—Why should I report to you?
That question silenced him.
Three years ago, she wouldn’t even leave the house without asking where he was.
Now she looked at him as if he were merely another officer at the station.
Diep So Am quickly smiled.
—Kieu Kieu, don’t misunderstand. Tu Nien was only worried about you.
Ha Kieu turned toward her.
—Comrade Diep, we’re not close enough for you to call me that.
Diep So Am’s face stiffened.
Chu Tu Nien frowned.
—Ha Kieu.
The familiar warning tone.
Three years ago, the moment he used that voice, she would become scared.
This time, she simply picked up her bag.
—I’m leaving.
He instinctively grabbed her wrist.
Ha Kieu immediately pulled away.
The movement was so fast that Chu Tu Nien froze.
She looked at the place he had touched.
Then at him.
—Don’t touch me.
His face went pale.
Outside, the snow was heavier.
Ha Kieu walked quickly toward the station exit.
Chu Tu Nien followed.
—Where are you staying?
No answer.
—Ha Kieu.
She kept walking.
—I’ll take you back.
She finally stopped.
—No need.
—It’s snowing.
—I know.
—You just returned from the countryside.
—I know that too.
His patience began to crack.
—Then stop being stubborn.
Ha Kieu turned.
For a second, Chu Tu Nien saw something in her eyes he had never seen before.
Not childish grievance.
Not confusion.
Something quiet.
Something tired.
—Commander Chu.
She spoke slowly.
—Three years ago, you also said I was stubborn.
His jaw tightened.
—That matter—
—You said I embarrassed Comrade Diep.
—Ha Kieu—
—You said I needed to learn discipline.
Her hand slowly rested over her abdomen.
The gesture was instinctive.
Chu Tu Nien’s gaze followed it.
Something flashed across his face.
Three years ago…
She had told him she was pregnant.
He remembered.
He had been angry at the time.
So angry about the banquet that he had barely listened.
His voice suddenly changed.
—The child…
Ha Kieu’s fingers froze.
Diep So Am had followed them outside.
At those two words, her expression changed too.
Chu Tu Nien took a step closer.
—Where is the child?
Ha Kieu looked at him.
For a long time.
Then she smiled.
Very faintly.
—Commander Chu really has a good memory.
His chest tightened.
—Answer me.
—Why?
—Because I’m the father.
Ha Kieu lowered her eyes.
Three years ago, hearing those words would have made her happy enough to cry.
Now she only felt cold.
—Are you?
Chu Tu Nien stared at her.
—What do you mean?
Before she could answer, someone shouted from outside the station.
—Mom!
A little boy wearing a dark cotton jacket ran through the snow.
He looked about three years old.
Ha Kieu’s entire expression changed instantly.
She crouched down and opened her arms.
The child threw himself into her embrace.
—Mom, Uncle Wen said you were taking too long.
Ha Kieu hugged him tightly.
—Mom is here.
Chu Tu Nien stood completely motionless.
His eyes were fixed on the child’s face.
The eyebrows.
The nose.
Even the serious little frown.
Too familiar.
Diep So Am’s face turned white.
The boy noticed Chu Tu Nien staring.
He hid behind Ha Kieu.
—Mom, who is he?
Ha Kieu stood up.
She held the child’s hand.
Then answered calmly:
—Someone we don’t know.
Chu Tu Nien’s face changed violently.
—Ha Kieu.
She ignored him.
At that moment, a man holding an umbrella approached from the roadside.
Tall.
Wearing a dark coat.
He stopped beside Ha Kieu and naturally took her bag.
—Everything settled?
Ha Kieu nodded.
—Yes.
The man looked at the little boy.
—An An, cold?
The child immediately reached toward him.
—Uncle Wen, carry me.
The man picked him up with practiced ease.
Chu Tu Nien’s expression darkened.
—Who are you?
The man looked at him.
Then smiled politely.
—Wen Jing Chen.
Chu Tu Nien had heard that name.
A doctor recently transferred back from the provincial military hospital.
Young.
Promising.
And according to rumors, unmarried.
Chu Tu Nien looked from him to Ha Kieu.
—Why is he with you?
Ha Kieu finally laughed.
—Commander Chu.
—You came here to pick up Comrade Diep.
She glanced at the coat still wrapped around Diep So Am’s shoulders.
—Take good care of the person you came for.
Then she turned away.
Chu Tu Nien suddenly called:
—Ha Kieu!
She stopped.
His voice was no longer cold.
It was almost shaken.
—Is that child mine?
The snow fell between them.
Ha Kieu did not turn around.
Wen Jing Chen looked at her.
As if waiting for her decision.
Then the little boy suddenly leaned over his shoulder and asked loudly:
—Mom, is that the bad uncle who sent you away?
Everything went silent.
Chu Tu Nien’s face drained of color.
Diep So Am instinctively stepped back.
Ha Kieu slowly closed her eyes.
Because she knew exactly who had taught An An those words.
And that person…
was supposed to be dead.
