Her husband died of the disease, while the grieving family was confused about her husband forgetting her phone in the middle of the night, she unexpectedly received a message from her late husband in the middle of the night….

The next night, the house was left with only yellow lights creeping in front of Ms. Lan’s altar. Minh sat motionless, her eyes red with tears, but deep down she was exhausted. Ever since her husband died of a sudden heart attack, she had lost almost no energy. Everything was in a hurry: dealing with the consequences, receiving visitors, taking care of the little daughter who had just lost her mother… He just smiled smugly at outsiders, and when he returned to the empty house, he was surrounded by sadness.

Minh’s most vigilant was the loss of the phone on the day of the funeral. She remembered holding her hand as she bent down to look into her husband’s face one last time. After that, it all came to a screeching halt. When it was discovered, the coffin was closed, and the coffin rolled over. He consoled himself that someone would take it eventually, or that it didn’t matter if he lost it. But in the middle of the night that day, when there were only two left in the quiet house, the truth chilled his spine.

That lost phone… Suddenly, he sent a message to his own number. Short Message:

“Brother Ming, I’m still here. Don’t let them fool you.”

Minh was stunned, his hands shaking as he held the auxiliary machine he had temporarily borrowed. Who can text from your number, while the SIM and the phone are both in the coffin with your wife? Above all, that content was like Lan himself always said every time he told her.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, Minh suddenly thought of the scene of the phone falling into the coffin without anyone knowing. But even then, who can send messages? That question stayed on his mind all night, he wasn’t allowed to sleep.

The next morning, Minh woke up with a dull face. He wandered around all night, his eyes always fixed on the borrowed phone that lay on the table, where the mysterious message was stored. She didn’t dare tell anyone, including her daughter, that she was afraid people would think she was too lonely to think about.

Curiosity, however, was overtaken by fear. Minh re-opened the message. The number sent to you is your number – that is, the SIM is still working. There’s only one way: his phone still has a battery and there’s a signal somewhere. But… If it’s really in this coffin, it’s hard to accept.

The next morning, Minh excused himself to go to the market to visit a phone shop near his home. He asked the employee to check the message history and location of the phone number. The young man typed on the computer, and then turned to Minh with surprise:

– My uncle’s number is currently sending a signal near the commune cemetery. The last time I sent a message was 1:12 a.m., as he said.

After listening, Minh goosebumps. Commune cemetery… This is where her husband lies. She is silent for a moment, trying to calm down. It’s possible that the phone fell into the coffin and still emitted a signal. But who texted? Her husband… impossible.

He decided to keep this information private. The next night, after taking his son to his grandmother’s house, Minh returned to the cemetery alone. The sky was cloudy, the wind was blowing with eucalyptus, the grasses were swaying in the new graves. Minh went straight to the land where Lan was buried. The tomb was still new, the ground had not yet had time to shrink, and the mourning crown still smelled of yellow chrysanthemums. He sat down and laid his hand on the cold tombstone.

“Orchid… If it’s you, give me a sign.

As soon as Minh finished speaking, the borrowed phone in his hand immediately vibrated. A new message came, still from his own number:

“Don’t trust the person next to you. Someone is hiding the truth about my death.”

Minh sweated, his eyes widened, and he looked around. But the cemetery didn’t have a shadow of a person. That message turned all thoughts in his mind upside down. Hadn’t the doctor found out that Lan had had a heart attack? Didn’t it all happen suddenly, not at the right time? So why this warning?

In Minh’s mind, many familiar faces appeared: Lan’s cousins, colleagues, and even close friends who visited him often. He began to worry about some unusual details. A friend who worked with Lan, on the day he visited, averted his eyes. A test result sheet that Lan had previously kept but was now missing. And most importantly – a few days before he died, Lan tried to say something to Minh, but he stopped.

When Minh gets home, Minh closes the door, holding his head in thought. He feels like he’s about to enter a labyrinth. If the message is a malicious joke, who can take your SIM and control it? And if not… Is it possible that his wife is hiding something from the truth that someone is hiding?

That night, Minh decided not to sleep. He sat down by his wife’s altar, his eyes steady. Then, exactly at 12 o’clock at night, a third message appeared:

“Look at my desk drawer. You need to know something.”

Minh was surprised. Lan’s desk had remained the same since he died. Trembling, he walked back, opening the drawer. Beneath the messy pile of papers, he found a small sealed envelope. Inside, Lan wrote in familiar handwriting: “If you have any destiny, give it to Minh.”
Child Care
Services Ming fell to his feet and sat down. This envelope… Is this the key to answering everything?

Inh sat stunned, hands trembling holding an envelope with Lan’s familiar handwriting. How many questions rushed through his mind: why had he prepared it, and why had he written a message as a precaution against death?

He took a deep breath and slowly opened the seal. Inside, in addition to a stack of medical papers, there was also a short handwritten piece of paper. Minh quickly read:

“Honey, my health hasn’t been good lately. But I suspect that something was deliberately making my situation worse. I discovered that there was a strange smell in my medication, and every time I took it, my heart was beating fast. I don’t want to talk about it, but if there’s a problem, find the truth. Don’t trust everyone around you.”

Ming’s hand gripped the paper, his heart beating. The warnings in the message seemed to coincide with Lan’s concern. He hurriedly examined the pile of medical documents: including test results showing the content of some foreign substances in the blood, but no clear diagnosis. Lan might have quietly taken the test, but he didn’t have time to say it.

Minh immediately remembered one detail: the unfinished bottle of heart medicine that Lan had taken was still in the cabinet. He immediately ran to get it. The box had a familiar label, but when the lid was opened, a pungent smell appeared that was different from the smell of ordinary medicine. Minh had a chill in his spine. If Lan had discovered this, the possibility of him being poisoned would no longer be a mere speculation.

But who? Why?

In his mind, an image appeared of someone: Hung – Lan’s closest colleague. Previously, Lan said Hung would often come to the house to get documents when he was busy. At one point, Lan joked that “Hung knows where my medicine cabinet is”. On the day of the funeral, Hung was present but his eyes avoided him, not daring to look directly at Minh. Is this relevant?

Unable to sit still, Minh took the medicine bottle to the hospital to ask an acquaintance to check it out. The initial results also surprised the doctor: the drug is mixed with a small amount of heart stimulants, long-term use can cause heart failure or sudden death.

Minh clenched his fists. Everything fits: Lan’s sudden exhaustion, Hung’s evasive gaze, the message on the envelope. He was both hurt and angry. The gentle and devoted wife to her family, died not only of illness, but perhaps of the cruel intervention of somebody.

That night, Minh returned to the empty house, sitting by Lan’s altar. He placed the envelope and the medicine bottle in front of his wife’s picture, whispered:

“I promise I will know the truth.

The borrowed phone rang on the table for the last time. A message from his number – that is, from the underground machine:

“Thank you. Now I’m comfortable. We need to protect our daughter.”

Minh burst into tears. He knew it might just be a hoax by an unknown person who wanted to push him to find answers. But deep down, she felt that Lan was still watching. No matter what, she wouldn’t let her husband’s death have a heart attack.

The story ends, not with complete liberation, but with the determination of a husband. Because sometimes, the truth is scarier than whispers from the underworld.