Giang Du looked at the registration paper in my hand.

“Are you planning on having surgery?”

I lowered my eyes.

“I came for an examination first.”

He was silent for a few seconds.

“Does Ha Tri Ngon know?”

“He knows I’m pregnant.”

“And he let you come alone?”

I almost laughed.

“He has another pregnant woman to take care of.”

Giang Du’s expression changed.

I didn’t explain further.

After the examination, he placed the ultrasound image in front of me.

“The baby is developing normally.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

On the screen was a tiny life that knew nothing about betrayal, Au Thien Thien, or a marriage that had already ended long before I admitted it.

“On Lan,” Giang Du said quietly, “whatever decision you make, make it because it’s what you want. Not because you’re angry with someone.”

I stared at the image.

Then I folded the report carefully.

“I know.”

I left the hospital without scheduling anything.

Outside, my phone turned on to thirty-six missed calls.

Twenty-nine from Ha Tri Ngon.

Seven from an unknown number.

Before I could put the phone away, the unknown number called again.

I answered.

“Sister Lan Lan?”

Au Thien Thien.

My hand went cold.

“What do you want?”

She gave a weak laugh.

“I heard you’re pregnant too.”

I said nothing.

“Tri Ngon is beside me right now.”

As if deliberately proving it, I heard his voice somewhere behind her.

“Thien Thien, where’s your medicine?”

She continued softly:

“You should understand now. Even knowing you’re carrying his child, he still came back to me.”

That sentence should have hurt.

Instead, something inside me became completely calm.

“Congratulations.”

She paused.

“That’s all?”

“What else do you want?”

“I thought you loved him.”

“I did.”

I looked at the ultrasound photograph in my hand.

“But you can have him.”

Then I hung up.

That afternoon I went home, packed two suitcases and placed the signed divorce agreement on the dining table.

Beside it, I left my wedding ring.

Nothing else.

At six that evening, Ha Tri Ngon finally came home.

By then I was already at my parents’ house.

He called.

Again.

Again.

Then a message appeared.

Where are you?

I ignored it.

Another arrived.

On Lan, come home. We need to talk about our baby.

Then:

I never said I wanted a divorce.

I stared at those words for a long time.

Finally, I replied.

But I did.

His call came immediately.

I answered this time.

“On Lan, where are you?”

“That no longer concerns you.”

“Tell me where you are.”

“Why? Au Thien Thien doesn’t need you tonight?”

Silence.

Then he said something I never expected.

“Her baby may not be mine.”

I froze.

“What?”

“I received the hospital records.”

His breathing was uneven.

“The dates don’t match what she told me.”

I closed my eyes.

For three years, I had imagined the day Ha Tri Ngon would finally see through Au Thien Thien.

I thought I would feel victorious.

Instead, I felt nothing.

“So investigate it.”

“On Lan—”

“It has nothing to do with me.”

“It has everything to do with us!”

“There is no us.”

He became silent.

Then his voice dropped.

“I’m coming to find you.”

“No.”

“I need to explain.”

“You had three years.”

I ended the call.

The next morning, someone knocked on my parents’ door.

I already knew who it was.

Ha Tri Ngon stood outside.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept.

In his hand was the divorce agreement.

Unsigned.

“I won’t sign.”

I looked at him calmly.

“That only delays things.”

“Then I’ll delay them.”

His eyes fell to my stomach.

“I made mistakes. Give me time.”

That sentence almost made me pity him.

Almost.

“You had time.”

I closed the door.

But before it shut completely, Ha Tri Ngon placed one hand against it.

“On Lan.”

I looked at him.

His face was pale.

“Last night I checked something else.”

“What?”

“The stairs where Thien Thien supposedly fell.”

I frowned.

“There’s a camera.”

He held up his phone.

“She didn’t fall.”

My expression changed.

Ha Tri Ngon continued:

“She deliberately sat down on the stairs before calling me.”

A cold feeling moved through me.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Then he showed me another screenshot.

A message Au Thien Thien had sent shortly before arriving at my emergency department.

There was only one sentence:

She’s on duty tonight. Bring me there.

I stared at it.

She had known.

The dress.

The pregnancy announcement.

Everything had been arranged for me to see.

But the next message was worse.

It had been sent to an unknown number.

Once On Lan leaves him, we can proceed with the second step.

I slowly raised my eyes.

“What second step?”

Ha Tri Ngon shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

Then my phone rang.

Giang Du.

I answered.

His first words made every trace of color disappear from my face.

“On Lan, come back to the hospital immediately.”

“Why?”

There was a pause.

“Someone accessed your pregnancy records last night.”

My hand instinctively covered my stomach.

“And whoever did it downloaded your complete medical file.”