They Stole My Grandmother’s Whole Life. I’ll Ruin Their Family’s Future with My Own Hands

My maternal grandfather was a thief. He stole my grandmother’s name and her identity as an educated youth, then left the mountains with another woman. One became a law professor, standing at the lectern and speaking about fairness. The other became a renowned traditional Chinese painter, speaking about integrity in front of the cameras. My grandmother, meanwhile, was trapped in the mountains for her whole life, shamed by everyone as a loose woman. She died without ever closing her eyes. Fifty years later. With the support of my grandmother and mother, two generations of women, I made it out of the mountains and became a partner at a top law firm. During graduation season, I take my seat as the law firm’s chief interviewer. The girl across from me is polished and composed, the best graduating student at the university of political science and law. I open her résumé and read through it page by page. When I reach the section on family information, I stop. I stare at the name for a long time. Then I look up at her and say softly, “You didn’t pass.”