For ten years, I raised my son without a father. The whole village mocked me—until one day, black luxury cars stopped outside my shack, and what happened next made even the cruelest hearts weep.

A Decade of Struggle

After my parents died—my father when Minh was three, my mother when he was seven—it was just us two. I worked anywhere I could: farms, kitchens, homes.

Only Mrs. Phuong, the restaurant owner, showed kindness. “You work hard,” she’d say. “You deserve more.”

But the gossip never stopped. Minh heard it too. At school, the children repeated their parents’ cruelty. He came home crying.

“You have me,” I’d tell him. “And that’s enough.”

But at night, after he slept, I lit a candle and stared at Thanh’s old photo. Where did you go? Did you forget us?