We had been married for three years when he suddenly had a stroke due to constant fatigue from work—half of his body remained paralyzed. Since he got sick, my mother-in-law has always been busy outside, while my husband has always been away. I took on almost everything: cooking, medicine, bathing, feeding porridge, even changing clothes.

My father-in-law is a quiet person—he seems to have a heavy heart—but there is goodness and love that he cannot express. Since I became his daughter-in-law, he has become even calmer with me than with his own daughter. And maybe… because he knows something that he has been hiding for a long time. He always has sadness in his eyes—as if there is a big stone in his heart.

When it was time to bathe, he said weakly:

— Don’t do it for now… Papa is tired now.

I forced a smile.

— It’s not possible, Pa. The weather is hot. You might get sick even worse.

He was silent for a long time, then heaved a deep sigh—as if he were about to face something he feared.

I helped him stand and took him to the laundry. As I unbuttoned his clothes, he spoke softly, trembling:

— Don’t be shocked… when you see that… scar.

I stopped.

Scar?

I suddenly remembered what my wife had told me before
“There is a strange mark on Papa’s back. Because of that, we lived in fear for many years. When you have had enough time as a son-in-law… I will tell you. But for now, don’t ask.”

I thought then—a war wound, or just a normal scar.

I didn’t think I would be the first to see it.

I gently pulled his clothes down. When his back was exposed, I couldn’t help but shed tears.

A long scar—a fire that looked like burning iron. But what was even more chilling—the symbol on the edge of the scar: the logo of the group that once committed a heinous fire…

…in which my wife’s real father died.

My whole body went cold.

According to my wife, her real father died in a mysterious fire. Later, her mother remarried my current father-in-law—Mang Tirik. The fire case was declared an accident. No one was caught. No justice.

And now—here, in front of me…

The mark of the very group involved in the murder.

My tears flowed in fear and shock.

He weakly held my hand:

— You saw it, right?

I couldn’t speak.

He looked up, his voice full of regret:

— I didn’t hurt them… I was just a guard then. I also couldn’t save Huy’s father… and that’s what I regretted for the rest of my life…

I backed away—not because of fear, but because of the weight of that truth.
She trembled as she cried:

— I wanted to tell you all along… but I was scared. I was scared of losing my family.

That night, when my husband Huy came home, I asked him directly:

— What’s the truth about your Papa’s scar?

His eyes widened.

— How did you…?

— I saw it.

She sat down, almost crying:

— Yes… Papa was part of that group. But he said he was just a guard. When the fire happened, he turned himself in to the police… but the real culprits escaped. So we left town, he changed his name… to start over.

I went over and held her hands:

— This kind of sin can’t stay hidden. Someone died because of it.

— But if Papa is exposed… he will go to jail.

— It is better to face the truth… than to live in fear for the rest of his life
The next day, I spoke to Mang Tirik.

He did not defend himself.

He nodded at me, tearfully saying:

— You are right. I have been looking for this courage for a long time.

A few days later, he voluntarily went to the police station.

When my mother-in-law saw that—she burst into tears.

Huy just stood next to me, trembling.

— Thank you for giving me the opportunity to straighten this out…

Huy hugged him, crying like a child.

The case was reopened.
The main culprit was caught after almost two decades.
The victim’s family—including Huy’s real father’s brother—expressed their gratitude.

Mang Tirik’s sentence was short because he was not the main culprit.
He was imprisoned in his old age—but he was relieved.

During my visits to him, he always held me:

— You are the one who set me free. Thank you, son.

A year later, he passed away in prison.
We mourned quietly at home.

Huy placed his picture on the altar and said softly:

— Papa was not perfect… he faced the truth. And that is the best legacy he left us.

I looked at the picture.

A peaceful smile was on his lips.

Finally… he fell completely silent