Unseasonal rains lashed the mountains, turning the path to the satellite school into a quagmire. Quyen rolled her trousers past her knees, wading heavily through the slick mud. The wind carried the pungent, raw scent of the earth, recalling the first days she had arrived in this land, her heart full of ambition. Now she returned, not for any pure ideal, but with a tempest raging in her soul.
The school was the same—faded wooden walls, a rusted tin roof. The only difference was a few new classrooms, half-built, their stacked bricks still dusty. And within Quyen, nothing was as it once was. Ever since that night—the night she and Thanh had crossed a forbidden line—her mind had not known a moment of peace. The thought of seeing them again sent her heart into an erratic rhythm.
She had felt strange all day. A deep fatigue, waves of nausea, a dull ache in her back. A suspicion coiled in her mind, unsettling her.
That night, sleep would not come. The rain drummed a steady rhythm on the tin roof. She sat huddled on the thin mattress, the test stick lying before her like an irrefutable proof.
Two bold, red lines.
Her hand trembled. I'm pregnant. A longing of over forty years, finally realized, arrived with a surge of both elation and utter panic. She placed a hand on her stomach, where a new life was taking shape. But then the images of Thanh and Ngoc surfaced, and her chest tightened. How could she explain? Or should she confess, and watch their family shatter?
Days later, she still had not decided. She tried to act normal, but the anxiety gnawed at her relentlessly.
One late afternoon, a familiar voice called out, "Quyen! Wait for me."
It was Thanh. There was something different in his eyes—a flicker of tension, a hint of scrutiny. She forced a brittle smile. "I need to discuss something with you," he said. "Could you take a walk with me for a moment?"
They walked slowly along the sodden dirt path. After a long silence, Thanh finally spoke, his voice low. "Are you… feeling alright these past few days?" Quyen started. "I'm… fine. Why do you ask?" Thanh stopped walking and looked at her directly. "I don't know if I'm just being oversensitive… but there's something different about you."
Her heart hammered against her ribs. "Different… how?" He studied her for another moment, then let out a breath and gave a strained laugh. "It's nothing… I'm probably just imagining things." Quyen lowered her gaze, her hand clutching the hem of her blouse. Has he sensed something?
The next morning, a wave of nausea hit her the moment she sipped her tea. During the staff meeting, she sat in a corner, her mind a fog, not daring to look at Thanh even as she felt his gaze drift toward her from time to time. When the meeting ended, she feigned being busy and quickly slipped away to her room.
Stepping inside, she slumped onto the bed, breathless. She placed a hand on her belly as hot, salty tears streamed down her face. The thought of ending it flashed through her mind, and she shuddered. Impossible. But if she kept it, what would she face? She suddenly remembered Ngoc, her dear friend, and her torment after being forced to give up her own child years ago. Her haunting words echoed in Quyen's memory: "Some things, once lost, are lost forever."
Would she follow that same tragic path?
In the following days, Quyen tried to avoid Thanh. One evening, he came to her lodging and knocked softly on the door. "Quyen… are you asleep?" She held her breath, lying motionless. After a moment, hearing no other sound, she finally dared to exhale. The conflict was suffocating her. To keep or to let go? The question besieged her every night. She wasn't young anymore. Heaven had given her a child; how could she bear to give it up?
That night, she dreamt of a newborn baby with hair that curled softly like Thanh's. Its tiny hands reached for her, its mouth babbling, "Mother…"
She awoke with a start, drenched in sweat, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. The dream was like a final affirmation. She laid a hand on her stomach and whispered a promise. "My child… I will keep you."
The decision was made, yet her heart remained heavy with anxiety for the future. Though she had resolved to face it, the road ahead was shrouded in mist.
Late one afternoon, after her last class, Quyen was walking slowly down the dirt path when a familiar voice called out from behind her. "Co… Co Quyen!"
Quyen spun around. A young woman stood there, her eyes wild with panic and brimming with tears. A memory, long dormant, rushed back.
Hoa.