Chapter 2: The Screen
Chapter 2: The Screen
The restaurant opening was extravagant.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled above hundreds of guests.
Musicians played softly.
Reporters moved through the crowd taking photographs.
Mrs. Hoa stood proudly on stage wearing an expensive red dress.
Minh smiled beside her.
They looked like the perfect family.
Then the lights dimmed.
A giant screen behind the stage flickered to life.
At first, everyone assumed it was part of the presentation.
Mrs. Hoa smiled confidently.
Then the video began.
The kitchen.
The shattered tray.
Me collapsing onto the floor.
The room became silent.
Guests watched as Mrs. Hoa sat comfortably at the card table.
Watched as she mocked me.
Watched as Minh ignored me completely.
The footage continued.
Minute after minute.
No one helping.
No one calling for medical assistance.
Only laughter.
Only cruelty.
Only indifference.
A gasp swept through the audience.
Someone dropped a glass.
Another guest whispered, "Is that real?"
The timestamp in the corner answered the question.
Mrs. Hoa's face turned white.
"Turn it off!" she screamed.
But it didn't stop.
The screen showed her calling me lazy.
Showed Minh stepping over my unconscious body.
Showed them ordering me to continue working while I struggled to breathe.
The audience stared in horror.
Business partners exchanged uncomfortable looks.
Relatives lowered their heads.
Years of carefully crafted reputation were collapsing in front of everyone.
Then my mother walked onto the stage.
She held a microphone with steady hands.
"This woman," she said, pointing toward me, "is my daughter."
The room remained frozen.
"For years she protected these people from embarrassment. Today, I will not."
She displayed my hospital records.
Doctor reports.
Medical evaluations.
Everything.
Every document confirmed the same truth.
I had nearly died.
And they had laughed.
The silence afterward felt endless.
No one applauded.
May you like
No one defended them.
Because there was nothing left to defend.
