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A Stepfather’s Cruelty: Eviction After Mother’s Death, and the Emotional Homecoming a Decade Later.

I was utterly dumbfounded. Just seven days after my mother's passing, my father had disowned me.

14 September, 2025

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I never met my biological father. When my mother was five months pregnant with me, he was diagnosed with cancer. To save money for my mother’s childbirth expenses, he chose to endure the pain and forgo medical treatment. He passed away less than a month after I was born. My mother named me Binh An, which means peace and comfort, signifying hope amidst their immense loss.

My early childhood was marked by hard work and struggle alongside my mother. My grandfather initially helped us, but he also fell ill. From then on, my mother solely shouldered the responsibility of raising me. When I turned five, my mother remarried. Her new husband, Mr. Hung, brought along a daughter who was five years older than me, and I gained a sister.

Mr. Hung, or “Father Hung” as I was instructed to call him, was a man of few words but sincere in his actions. He always wore a gentle smile, worked diligently, and treated my mother and me with kindness. Gradually, I accepted him as my second father, despite our lack of biological connection.

Father Hung ensured my grandfather didn’t have to lift a finger when he was still alive. After my grandfather’s passing, the villagers no longer respected Father Hung, an outsider to their community. Our family faced numerous hardships and oppression. To escape this, my mother and stepfather decided to move back to his hometown, where his extended family lived in unity and solidarity.

When I turned five, my mother remarried. (Illustration)

Although we weren’t related by blood, he always treated me as his own child. When I went away for school, he worried about my living expenses. Despite our poverty and my mother’s ill health, he assured me:

– As long as you are willing to study, I will provide for your education, even if it means selling everything we have.

His words remained etched in my heart.

My mother’s health deteriorated over the years. As a result, my sister had to drop out of school early to help at home, while I was fortunate enough to continue my studies. I felt guilty about my sister’s sacrifice and worked hard to excel in school to repay everyone’s kindness. However, the fact that I was allowed to continue my education bred resentment in my sister.

When I was in 11th grade, my sister had a fierce argument with Father Hung regarding her marriage plans. She felt that he prioritized me over his biological daughter. This led to the only instance where he physically disciplined her.

My sister left home and married someone from far away. She didn’t return for two years. My mother was deeply troubled by this. When she passed away shortly after my university entrance exam, Father Hung approached me and said:

– Your mother instructed that you should live with your uncle from now on. The old house belonged to your mother, and I’ve left it to your care. I sold our house and am giving you 50 million VND for your university expenses. From now on, we are no longer related.

I was stunned. Just seven days after my mother’s death, he was turning his back on me. I begged him to let me stay, promising to take care of him for the rest of his life. But he quietly turned away, saying:

– I’ve never expected anything from you. I can’t afford your university expenses anymore, so please don’t seek me out.

And so, I moved in with my uncle, filled with pain, resentment, and despair. I thought that because we weren’t blood-related, he could easily abandon me.

Throughout my university years, I juggled studies and part-time jobs to support my uncle and his wife. Later, I passed the graduate entrance exam and became a university lecturer. I built a stable life with a family of my own, achieving what could be considered success. Yet, the wound left by Father Hung never fully healed.

My stepfather kicked me out just seven days after my mother’s death. (Illustration)

I hadn’t seen Father Hung since I left. I avoided visiting my uncle, only returning to pay respects during the Tet holiday and then leaving soon after. However, on one Tet holiday, my uncle asked me to stay and urged me to visit Father Hung, who was spending the holiday alone.

I responded with indifference:

– He abandoned me. What kind of blood or familial bond is there to warrant a visit?

My uncle looked at me for a long time before confessing:

– I’ve wronged you, and there’s something I’ve kept from you for the past ten years.

What he revealed left me in shock. It turned out that the house sold back then wasn’t my mother’s but Father Hung’s.

Before her passing, my mother had instructed him to sell her house to fund my education. However, as her house was of low value, Father Hung quietly sold his own house instead. With the proceeds, he gave me 50 million VND for my university expenses and used the rest to repay the debts incurred during my mother’s illness. He then took on odd jobs everywhere. Even the money my uncle gave me for school each year came from him.

He deliberately staged the “rejection” to spare me from guilt and ensure I didn’t give up on my education. For ten years, he endured a life of hardship and loneliness.

Upon learning the truth, I rushed back to his old house. For the first time, the gate was left unlocked. As I stepped inside, he was taken aback but quickly embraced me, saying:

– It’s cold outside. Come in, my child.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I knelt down and said:

– Father, I was wrong. I blamed you unfairly for ten years. Please forgive my unfilial behavior.

He hurriedly helped me up, his eyes filled with tears, and said:

– You are my child. How could I ever blame you?

We held each other tightly. In that moment, I knew I had found my family again. Now, when asked, “Who is your father?” I proudly reply, “My father didn’t give birth to me, but he gave me his entire life.”

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