As usual, I arrived at the office ten minutes early, clocked in, turned on my computer, and walked to the shared kitchen. My routine is to brew a hot cup of coffee before starting the workday. I sat down, savoring each sip of coffee, my eyes drifting to the window. The weather today is beautiful, with gentle sunlight stretching across the lush green treetops.

Around 8:30, the office was nearly full. My team was just missing one person. I glanced at the empty chair next to me – still vacant. Tram, the young woman sitting next to me, had been absent for two consecutive days without any notice. Human resources could not reach her by phone, and the boss had come into the room to check and declared that if Tram didn't come back for one more day without permission, she would be fired.

Tram is a young girl, only in her twenties, and she has been officially working for less than half a year. I don't know much about her circumstances, but there has always been a lingering doubt in my mind. "Is Tram jumping ship unexpectedly?" – a colleague sitting one seat away mumbled, but the question hung in the air unanswered.

"Impossible, Tram has never gone absent without leave. Even if she were to leave, she should do it properly," – another person chimed in.

"Maybe something happened at her home?" – whispers began to spread throughout the room.

Tram lives in a rented house with friends. She is a girl from Central Vietnam, a coastal region, who left her hometown to come to the city for university and then work. Although she has just graduated, her freelance experience from university helped her navigate her probation period smoothly. Her official salary is quite decent, and along with her income from side jobs, Tram no longer needs to ask her family for money. Each month, she pays her living expenses and occasionally sends some back home.

Stories of young people are always captivating, but they quickly fade away as work piles up. In the team's group chat, someone occasionally grumbles about Tram's absence, but no one is too harsh. After all, there has been no official decision about her resignation, and she is still part of the team.

Just as everyone was engrossed in work, the sound of the door opening suddenly broke the silence. A figure darted through the doorway as if being chased by a ghost, and the door slammed shut. **BANG!!!** The loud noise startled everyone in the room, causing us all to stop and look towards the door.

Tram – the main subject of the gossip – appeared.

She walked in looking disheveled, her hair a mess, and her clothes wrinkled. Tram was panting, her face pale, and her eyes red like she had just been crying. She rushed to her seat, turned on her computer, and buried her face in her arms on the table, her shoulders shaking. Perhaps she was trying to catch her breath.

I asked with concern: "Tram... are you okay?"

Tram slowly lifted her head, tilting her face towards me. Her voice was hoarse and broken: "No... not okay at all... I'm not okay at all..."

Her face looked haggard, her eyes were bloodshot, and there were bruises on the corners of her mouth and eyebrows. The room fell silent, the atmosphere feeling frozen. Tram's sobs echoed, filled with pain and fear.

"What... what should I do... I'm so scared..." – Tram cried out.

At that moment, I realized that for the past three days, Tram had not been able to come to the office not because she wanted to, but because she had been held captive in her boyfriend's house.