The silence in Linh’s apartment was heavy, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of a wall clock and the muted patter of rain against the glass. It was 4:00 a.m. I sat on the edge of her spare bed, still wearing my heavily embroidered wedding traditional dress, though I had torn off the stifling veil hours ago. The ten $100 bills sat on the nightstand, crisp, clean, and terrifying.
Linh handed me a mug of hot tea, her hands shaking slightly. She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of me, her eyes wide with a mix of adrenaline and dread.
“You can’t keep your phone off forever, Vy,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Your parents are going to call the police. They’ll think you’ve been kidnapped.”
“If I turn it on, Hung will trace me,” I said, my voice barely audible. My throat felt like sandpaper. “You didn’t see his father’s face, Linh. It wasn’t the face of a man playing a cruel prank. He was sweating. His hands were ice cold. He looked like a man who had already accepted his own death sentence.”
I stared at the money. $1,000. It wasn’t a fortune—not to a family as wealthy as Hung’s. If my father-in-law wanted to bribe me to leave his son, he would have offered millions. This wasn’t a bribe. It was cash for a bus ticket, a cheap motel, emergency rations. It was survival money.
“But why?” Linh pressed, leaning forward. “Hung is an executive. His family owns half the commercial real estate developments in the city. What could they possibly be involved in that would put your life in danger? You’ve been dating him for six months! Did you ever see anything out of the ordinary?”
I closed my eyes, trying to piece together the whirlwind of the last half-year.
