Tuan met Hanh by chance when he visited a friend living in a rural province. Hanh was a single mother, raising her little daughter, My — a bright, well-mannered child who clung tightly to her mother whenever strangers were around. At that time, Tuan had just transferred his job to the area and was living alone, unmarried. Even though he knew Hanh had been through a failed marriage and had a child from that relationship, he didn’t hesitate. In fact, it was her resilience, tenderness, and deep devotion to her daughter that made him grow fond of both mother and child.

After over a year of serious dating, Tuan and Hanh decided to live together as husband and wife. They didn’t have much in terms of wealth, but their early days were filled with laughter and warmth. Tuan loved little My like his own daughter — he took her to school, read her stories, and even built her a small swing in the yard. Hanh would often tear up, believing that she had finally found a good man for herself and a real father figure for her daughter.

But one fateful afternoon, as Tuan and Hanh returned from work like any other day, they found the back door of the house slightly ajar. They called out for My, but there was no response. The house was unusually quiet. They searched everywhere, but the little girl was gone.

Hanh screamed in panic while Tuan, confused and frightened, called the police and asked neighbors for help. No one had any clues. There were no signs of forced entry, no cries for help. In just one short afternoon, My — a child known by everyone in the neighborhood — had vanished as if she had never existed.

From that day on, the search began. And slowly, a meticulously crafted nightmare started to unravel…

The Basement Room: The Truth Behind a Missing Girl

For the past three years, Hanh and her current husband, Tuan, had become symbols of resilience and parental devotion. After Hanh’s daughter, little My, mysteriously disappeared, the couple did everything they could to search for her. They printed flyers, posted online appeals, and even appeared on television programs to ask the public for help. People were moved by their story—especially by Tuan, who, though only the stepfather, never left Hanh’s side and never once complained.

They received hundreds of millions of dong in donations. Some even gave them a car, food supplies, and free housing so the couple could focus on “searching” for their child. Everyone believed they were a heartbroken family struggling through unimaginable pain.

But one day, it all came crashing down.

Dung, a neighbor who lived right next door, started hearing strange tapping noises coming from their backyard late at night. At first, he thought it was just rats or cats, but the sounds continued for several nights—faint, rhythmic knocking, as if someone was trying to signal for help.

One night, he decided to investigate. Hidden under a pile of old flower pots, he found a small wooden door, almost invisible to the eye.

The door led to a tiny basement room—dark, damp, and smelling of mold and concrete. In one corner of the room, curled up in a tattered shirt, was a frail, pale little girl, her eyes wide with fear.

It was My—the child everyone had believed missing for three years.

The police were called immediately. As the investigation unfolded, a horrifying truth came to light: My had never gone missing. She had been locked in the basement by her own mother and stepfather since the day they claimed she disappeared. The couple had orchestrated the entire missing child story to gain public sympathy and receive donations.

They faked their sorrow, staged their search, and built a complex web of lies. Meanwhile, My had lived like a prisoner beneath their home—deprived of sunlight, love, and education. Each day, she was fed just enough to stay alive.

The community was in shock. Those who had once donated and supported the couple now felt deeply betrayed. The couple was arrested and now face multiple serious charges, including child abuse, fraud, and unlawful imprisonment.

As for My—though her body has been freed, her spirit bears deep wounds. It will take years of care and support for her to begin healing from the darkness she endured in what was supposed to be her home.