When he came out, he passed by the small study at the end of the hallway. He heard a faint rustling.
The door wasn’t locked, so he slowly opened it.
He saw Ngoc — still wearing the same nightgown, no makeup, her hair messy.
In front of her was an old photo: a girl about six years old, and a man hugging it, smiling.
Ngoc was surprised, but immediately smiled sadly.
“You haven’t slept yet?” she asked softly.
Nam came closer. “I thought… you were just tired.”
Ngoc was silent for a moment before speaking:
“He died ten years ago. Since then… I haven’t slept well in another man’s room.”
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