Mr. Heng wore his glasses, sat in his study on the first floor, his eyes focused on the company diagram report displayed on his iPad Pro. The room was quiet except for the faint tapping of his fingers on the screen.
A knock on the door broke his concentration. He glanced up, surprised, and quickly turned off the iPad.
"Dara?" he said, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.
"Yes," Dara replied, stepping into view.
"What brings you here?" Heng asked, leaning back slightly in his chair.
"I want to see you," Dara said firmly.
"Oh, I see. Come in and sit," Heng gestured to the chair opposite him.
"Yes," Dara responded, stepping forward to take a seat.
"How have you been? You look thinner," Mr. Heng asked, his gaze scanning Dara with mild concern.
"I'm okay," Dara replied shortly.
"Where do you live now? Alone?"
"Yes," Dara said, his tone steady.
"Oh..." Heng removed his glasses and sighed, leaning forward slightly. "Do you want to move here?"
Dara chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"Why?" Heng asked, genuinely puzzled.
As Dara was about to respond, a notification popped up on his phone. He instinctively checked it.
"Sorry," he murmured, glancing down.
It was a message from Marina: "I just moved back to live with my mom recently. See you later."
Heng noticed his brief distraction and asked, "Who?"
Dara's mind raced as he processed Heng's question. So that's why he's inviting me to live here—because Marina left, he thought, a sudden realization dawning on him. He kept his face neutral, not wanting to reveal his thoughts just yet.
"Just my friend," Dara replied casually, trying to mask the thoughts swirling in his mind.
"Okay. Don't you want to live here, huh?" The dad asked, his tone more probing.
"I can't," Dara answered quickly, his voice steady.
"Oh..." Heng's expression shifted slightly, though he hid it well.
"I heard you just bought a car. Why didn't you come to me or your sister?" He asked.
"I can't afford a brand-new one. I bought a second-hand car. It's enough for me. I regret not getting one when Mom was still alive," Dara replied.
"I didn't mean you had to pay for it. I can give you one—you're my son. We run a car import business, you know that!"
"God damn, your son!" Dara muttered.
The old man's face showed disappointment, but he didn't press further, shifting the conversation to another question.
"So, what brings you here?"
The son took a deep breath before speaking. "Yes, I have some questions."
Heng's eyes seemed to shift, a hint of wariness in his gaze. "Okay, say it."
Dara locked eyes with him. "You came to the village with my mom too, right?"
The shift in Heng's demeanor was immediate, his face hardening as he took a deep breath. "Yes, I did," he said quietly.
"And on the day she died too?" Dara asked, his voice low, his eyes empty of emotion but piercing all the same.
Heng hesitated, the silence stretching thin as the weight of the question pressed down on him. Finally, he exhaled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes."
Dara felt a chill creep up his spine, his mind swirling with doubt. Who was lying—Heng, Monica, or Ta Chek? Or could it be both Heng and Monica who visited his mom that day? The pieces didn't fit, and the truth seemed to slip further out of reach.
Dara pressed on. "Why? Why did you go there?"
Heng hesitated, then leaned back in his chair, his expression softening.
"She was in pain, and I thought I was too much for her. We met and talked somewhere there. She wanted me to bring you home or, otherwise, send you away. You know, you're my only son. I love my kids equally... Recently, I've been reflecting on myself. I was too hard on my kids. Now Marina's left, and Monica is going to get married and stay away from me too."
The vulnerability in Heng's words caught Dara off guard, but he remained silent, absorbing the weight of his father's confession.
Heng's voice trembled slightly as he continued, his eyes clouded with regret.
"Your mother... she seemed like she didn't forgive me for what I've done so far. It seemed like she no longer needed me and had to send you away. So, I went there, asked her to pause... and I can't understand why she took her life. I'm sorry, Dara."
His words hung heavy in the air, and Dara's chest tightened as he processed the deep sorrow in his father's voice.
Heng's face froze, his eyes widening slightly. Dara's words seemed to hit him harder than expected.
"I told her to give me more time," Heng continued, his voice tinged with regret.
"After your video footage was gone and forgotten by social media, we'd consider placing you in our holding group. But she might not have believed me anymore."
Dara's gaze remained steady. "So, it meant my mom didn't take her own life, right?"
Heng was visibly stunned, his usual composure slipping as the weight of Dara's question hit him. The idea was undeniable, and his expression darkened with worry.
Dara's gaze was sharp. "And after her seventh day, you kept all her things—the ones the police returned?"
The old man's thoughts stumbled, unsure of how to answer, the weight of an unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air.
"Why?" Dara's voice cracked. "Why didn't you send them to me?"
"Because," Heng murmured, the words catching in his throat, "the police were about to close the case, but I... I couldn't accept it. I didn't believe she took her own life."
"You really think that?" Dara's eyes narrowed, a flicker of disbelief.
Heng's response was sharp, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. "It sounds like you suspect me, son."
Dara laughed, bitter and laced with pain, the burden of the question heavier than any answer could bear.
"She promised me when she came back from the hometown we would have a trip," Dara said, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "She planned to send me away, planned so many things. Then why did she do that? Why were her fingers and feet injured? Why did you keep silent and keep her belongings, and were you the one who deleted her texts with Monica?"
Heng's face turned pale, his expression faltering as the weight of Dara's words sank in.
Dara leaned in, pressing further. "You didn't know? Then Monica is the one who deleted it? You think I didn't catch the context and meaning that disappeared?"
The old man stood frozen, his breath shallow, unable to respond as the truth unfolded in front of him.
"Dara! It's not like what you always think!" Heng exclaimed, his voice strained with desperation.
"Then what?" Dara shot back, his anger rising.
"I..." Heng stammered, unable to find the words.
"You pity her?" Dara pressed, his voice cutting through the tension. "You beg her forgiveness? My god! Look at you! Who begged my mom for forgiveness when you treated her like a beggar?"
"It's not—" Heng tried to defend himself, but Dara's words hit hard, each one like a painful reminder of his past actions.
"It's the truth!" Dara interrupted, his voice bitter with the weight of the accusations.
"You're misunderstanding me, Dara," the dad pleaded, his voice trembling. "I am your father, and I am her husband."
"Husband?" Dara shot to his feet, his face contorted in anger and agony. "Husband?"
Heng was silent, guilt flashing in his eyes.
Dara slammed his fist on the table, his voice breaking. "Stop it!"
Heng's face grew pale as he met Dara's burning gaze, the weight of his son's words crashing over him.
"So, now what do you want, Dara? Tell me," Heng asked, his voice low and strained.
Dara's expression hardened, his eyes seething with determination.
"I need the truth," he said, his voice steady but fierce. "I need justice for my mom. Anyone who conceals information, I'll take them all to prison. I won't forgive for the rest of my life. You better tell me who killed my mom."
The silence that followed was thick with tension. Heng seemed to shrink under the pressure, unable to speak, as Dara's words hung in the air, demanding an answer.
***
At HBH company, the top management gathered around the large conference table. Monica, as the CEO, sat at the head of the table, her focus sharp.
Dalin, a prominent figure on the Board of Directors and often acting as the managing consultant, addressed the room. Oudom and the other members of the team listened intently.
Monica, exuding confidence, declared, "So, I've decided to begin our first villa construction project in the northwest of the city."
A member of the top management raised a question. "Why choose the northwest? Why not the east first? We have a decent plot of land there, and it's next to a river view. It's trending now!"
Monica responded firmly, "The northwest offers more potential for now too—it's in the heart of the city, surrounded by natural mountain views, and close to cultural tourism hotspots. While river views attract interest, they're not everything. With so many businesses already clustered there, we should focus on developing something unique here, turning every location into a significant opportunity."
Dalin nodded in agreement with Monica, his gaze sweeping across the group to include them all.
"Not just houses," Monica continued with a determined smile. "There'll be condos, a supermarket, lake and garden, a playground, even a university and a hospital. I've secured our new architect, and we'll start immediately." The room buzzed with silent approval as everyone nodded, their resolve aligning with hers.
"As our new subsidiary is officially in place," Dalin announced, his voice steady, "I'll leave it to Monica to decide the opening day. Moving forward, we'll continue working team by team, sticking to our plan. If there are any updates, let's bring them straight to the table for discussion."
Monica nodded, acknowledging the decision. The room was filled with the quiet hum of anticipation, each person eager to see how the next phase of the company's expansion would unfold under her leadership.
Monica's phone rang, cutting through the quiet atmosphere of the meeting room. She raised a hand, signaling for everyone to pause.
"Pardon me for a moment," she said, excusing herself before answering the call.
"Yes, Dad..." she spoke, listening intently. The color drained from her face as she processed the information. Her grip tightened on the phone before she spoke again. "I need to end the meeting first."
With that, she set the phone down and addressed the room. "" Let's wrap up, everyone agrees, and we're ready to leave? And I'll go first."
The team nodded in unison, sensing the urgency in her tone, and began to pack up, ready to adjourn.
***
Monica walked toward her office, her thoughts swirling, while Dalin headed to another meeting room with some managers.
As she stepped into her office, Her phone rang again. It was Heng. She picked up, her voice calm but laced with tension.
"Yes, dad?"
Heng stood in the same room at home, but there was no sign of Dara.
"Dara is investigating his mom's case!" He said with a sharp edge of his voice.
"Let him be!" Monica replied coolly, trying to maintain control over the conversation.
"Why are you so confident?" Heng pressed, his tone growing more urgent.
"Do you want me to act like I'm stopping him?" She retorted, her patience thinning.
"Daughter! Listen to me!" Heng's voice grew louder.
"I am listening!" Monica snapped back.
Heng hesitated before speaking, his voice steady but finally
"She died by killing herself, okay?"
Daughter's eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening
"Dad, let him do this for his mom."
"Come home as soon as you finish your job," Heng urged.
"Sorry, I have a date with Visak," Monica replied, her voice detached.
"You seem so careless" Dad's frustration was evident.
"Please, let it be, I can handle him. Okay, dad? Dara's investigation, I'll take a look carefully and keep you updated." She promised, her tone softer now.
"You must keep your word", Heng insisted, his voice firm.
"Absolutely!" she assured him, but before she could say more, her dad hung up.
Monica stood frozen for a moment, stunned by the abrupt end to the conversation. She stared at the phone in her hand, uncertainty creeping in.