The dog raised its head, its old eyes flashed with suspicion, then suddenly growled fiercely, barking loudly, tearing apart the quiet space. From the suitcase the Vietnamese girl had just put down, a memory buried for 10 years suddenly rose up.

Ngoc – a young girl from the West of Vietnam – never thought that one day in her life she would set foot in a luxurious villa in the heart of California, where Bentley cars passed by like the wind and breakfast was a strange combination of caviar and truffle butter toast.

She was just a maid. But not for an ordinary family.

The owner of this villa is Mr. Lam – a famous Vietnamese billionaire in the biotechnology industry in the US. He is successful, secretive and extremely principled. It is rumored that Mr. Lam lost a relative more than 10 years ago in a strange incident, since then he has lived alone, coldly and only trusts one friend – a Husky named Max.

Ngoc came to the US as a legal worker and went through many rigorous rounds of screening to be selected as Mr. Lam’s housekeeper. She was told: “Do not go near room number 3 on the second floor. Do not touch Max’s belongings without permission. And absolutely do not ask about the boss’s past.”

Ngoc is a skillful, hard-working and quiet person. On her first day at work, she carefully cleaned every corner, arranged the kitchen cabinets neatly and learned how to separate Max’s food for each day of the week.

But strange things started to happen that night.

When Ngoc had just dragged the suitcase into the staff room, Max – who was always gentle with the servants – suddenly screamed, leaning forward as if he wanted to rush at her. The barking echoed throughout the villa, to the point that Mr. Lam rushed down from the upper floor. His eyes flashed with panic, then turned to surprise when he saw… the keychain hanging on Ngoc’s suitcase.

It was an old wooden hook, carved with a lotus flower.

“Where did you get this hook?” Mr. Lam asked, his voice hoarse.

Ngoc stepped back, confused: “Yes… it’s my mother’s. She said someone gave it to me, and I carry it with me to remember my hometown.”

Mr. Lam was silent. His hands trembled slightly.

“Who gave it to me?” he asked.

Ngoc looked at him, feeling something strange in the way he looked at her. She replied slowly: “My mother doesn’t remember the name… She just said it was a man who used to live in Saigon, who often wore a square-faced watch, had a deep voice, and often came to give books to my mother when she worked at the library.”

Mr. Lam stood there, frozen. On his wrist, the square-faced watch sparkled under the chandelier.

That night, the villa did not sleep.

Mr. Lam asked Ngoc to tell him everything she knew about her mother – from her hometown, her job, to the smallest things. The more he listened, the more silent he became. There were creepy coincidences: Ngoc’s mother used to work at the library of the Medical School in 1992, and had a lover who suddenly disappeared for unknown reasons…

And the dog Max – since then – has not left Ngoc’s side for a moment. But no longer growling. Instead, there is a loyal vigilance, as if it recognizes a part of the past in the young girl herself.

Ngoc began to suspect. She felt that she was not simply a maid. There was something deeper, lurking behind the boss’s eyes – something that he himself did not dare to face.

While cleaning room number 3 – the forbidden room – Ngoc accidentally dropped the mop, causing the door to open slightly. From inside, a soft yellow light shone out. On the wall, hung an old painting: a Vietnamese woman holding a newborn baby girl, next to a man wearing a square-faced watch…

Ngoc was startled. The little girl in the painting had eyes… exactly like hers.

When the door opened, dim light crept in, covered in the dust of time. Ngoc stood frozen in front of the old painting. The painting depicted a young mother holding a newborn baby – and the man beside her was Mr. Lam, her boss. A tear ran down Ngoc’s cheek, though she still didn’t understand why.

Room number 3 was always locked. But now, before Ngoc’s eyes was a frozen world – the room was filled with old objects, papers, photos, and a tiny wooden cradle. Everything was cleaned, as if someone was still waiting for a child to return.

Before she could react, Mr. Lam appeared behind her. He stood still for a long time, then said softly: “You saw it, right?”

Ngoc turned around and nodded.

“That painting… is it real?” – she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Mr. Lam nodded. His voice seemed to come from somewhere far away: “That’s my family. My wife – named Linh – the woman in the painting, used to be a librarian at the University of Medicine and Pharmacy library in Vietnam. My daughter… disappeared when she was only a few months old. And since then, everything inside me has disappeared.”

Ngoc was stunned. Every word he said was like a knife stabbing at her heart. She suddenly felt something rise up inside her – not just emotion but also connection. A faint memory from her childhood suddenly came flooding back: a familiar lullaby, a gentle woman’s hand stroking her hair, and the barking of a dog… just like Max.

“Your daughter… what’s her name?” Ngoc asked, her heart pounding.

Mr. Lam was silent, as if he didn’t dare to say what he had buried for a decade.

Ngoc.” – he whispered.

She stepped back. The world seemed to tilt.

“What…?” – she trembled.

“Linh named the girl Ngoc, after her mother. But after what happened… I never dared to call her that name again. I lost both of them in one night.”

Through Mr. Lam’s broken story, the truth gradually emerged. Ten years ago, when Mr. Lam had just signed his first million-dollar contract, a group of business rivals wanted to destroy him. They could not find any weakness… until they discovered his wife and children.

In a staged car accident, the wife was seriously injured, and the baby – then 6 months old – was kidnapped in the chaos. Mr. Lam asked the FBI, hired international detectives, and even used the underworld. But the baby – his only child – disappeared without a trace.

The wife died after a year, and Mr. Lam lived like a shadow since then.

Only Max – the dog, then 2 years old – was a witness. But Max could not speak. He only remembered the smell. And that was why, as soon as Ngoc entered the house, Max went crazy. He remembered the breath, the smell of the baby’s skin… because he had licked her hand, slept next to her crib.

Ngoc fell to her knees floor. She couldn’t believe it.

All she knew was that, throughout her childhood, her mother had kept something hidden. There were no family photos, no relatives. There were only recurring dreams – of the sea, of car lights, and a man screaming “Ngoc” in vain.

Mr. Lam stepped forward and opened an old wooden box in the drawer. Inside was a video – taken from a car camera that year – and a police report. In the video, a woman panicked and ran from the car, holding a baby, and was pushed down. A man grabbed the baby, but was beaten unconscious. The kidnapper’s face was unclear – only that they had stuffed the baby into another car.

When Max was brought back to the scene 3 days later, he led the police to… a deserted beach, where a torn child’s dress was found.

The baby was thought to be dead.

But no – she was saved by a fishmonger nearby, and somehow, was secretly adopted in the countryside of Western Vietnam.

Ngoc was that girl.

When everything became clear, Mr. Lam collapsed in front of the young girl. He cried silently. “I’m sorry. Dad couldn’t find you sooner…”

Ngoc didn’t cry. She reached out to touch his face – the face she had dreamed of but didn’t know why. Beside him, Max barked softly, then lay down, rubbing his head against her leg.

The whole villa was immersed in the sunset light. After 10 years, everything seemed to have returned to its rightful place.

The next day, Mr. Lam held a closed press conference, announcing his resignation and transferring power to his successor.

Ngoc – now no longer a maid – stood by his side, not like a daughter returning, but like a symbol of miracles: family love that cannot be erased by time, distance or the darkness of the human heart.

As for Max, old but loyal, he lay on the porch looking at the blue sky. His eyes sparkled – as if he had completed his final mission: to reunite his master with his son.