Chapter 25 — Late Night Radio

There was an eerie silence that filled the square right after the call ended, a silence that only lasted a few seconds but to Vy, standing on the stage, her hand still clutching the microphone like the only anchor keeping her from collapsing, it seemed to last forever. She looked down at the crowd, seeing hundreds of faces looking up at her, not with panic in their eyes, but with a trusting expectation — they had just heard bad news, but they believed that Vy, who had accompanied them through many nights, would know how to lead them through this moment.

That belief, coming from people she had never met but whose voices she had known for many years, pulled Vy back to reality, forcing her to put aside the emotional earthquake rolling inside to fulfill the responsibilities before her. "We just heard the announcement," she said, her voice, though still shaky, regaining the necessary stability. "The area of Dong Hai ward and around the city hospital will temporarily lose water from 1:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. so that the plant can handle technical problems. If any of you who are present here live in that area, please don't worry too much, this is a proactive measure to ensure water safety for the whole city. Our editorial board will keep in touch and update as soon as there is new news."

She signaled Thao Nhi, standing next to the stage with an equally shocked expression, immediately posted an urgent notice on the fanpage so that those not present at the square could know the news, and asked Hai Duong to keep in touch directly through the hotline that had just been left, to update the situation hourly. The crowd, after the initial excitement, gradually calmed down, many people took out their phones to call home to tell their relatives to stock up on water, but the majority remained, no one left the square, as if this unexpected incident, instead of interrupting the night of the festival, made people feel even more clearly the true value of what they were witnessing - a radio program not only for entertainment, but truly a living thread, connecting strangers in this city together, right in the middle of the night. at the most urgent time.

For nearly an hour afterward, Vy continued to coordinate the program, alternating between gentle songs and status updates every fifteen minutes, her voice gradually stabilizing thanks to having specific work to stick to. Nearly two o'clock in the morning, the factory's hotline called to report that the pipe had been securely locked, the technical team was making repairs and expected to restore water supply earlier than initially expected, possibly just before four o'clock in the morning. Vy read the news aloud on stage, and a round of relieved applause rang out throughout the square, mixed with laughter and sighs of relief from those who had just experienced a moment of anxiety on behalf of neighbors and relatives in the affected area.

"This," Mr. Binh said softly to Do Bao Toan, standing next to him in the guest area, his voice calm but filled with meaning, "is what I want you to see with your own eyes. An automated music playlist would never do what just happened here — no one to take the emergency call in the middle of the night, no one to reassure hundreds of people standing in the middle of a dark square, no living voice to turn bad news into a moment of belief." thought, more connected to each other."

Do Bao Toan did not respond immediately, his eyes still following Vy on stage, his face carrying a complicated expression that Vy, even though he was busy coordinating the program, still caught it when he glanced down - no longer the cold skepticism of previous meetings, but something close to reluctant admiration. "I need more time to think," he finally said, his voice still holding the familiar cautiousness of a manager, "but I admit, what I just witnessed tonight, no table of data can convey so completely."

The show ended at three in the morning, two hours later than the usual time slot, but no one in the crowd seemed upset by that. Vy stood on the stage, bowed her head to thank everyone for staying until the last minute, her voice was choked with exhaustion, and when the stage lights dimmed, the crowd began to slowly disperse, many people stayed to shake her hand, hug her, and say sincere thanks that made her almost burst into tears amid the exhaustion of an unprecedentedly long night.

But as soon as the lights went out, as soon as the crowd thinned out, the emotional earthquake that Vy had been trying to suppress for the past two hours suddenly came violently, unable to be contained any longer. She stood still in the middle of the empty stage, her legs were weak, she had to hold on to the microphone stand to keep from collapsing. In her head, those three syllables still echoed endlessly - Pham Nhat Minh - along with all the disparate pieces of the past seven months that suddenly rushed together, automatically forming into a shockingly clear shape.

Ms. Xuan, from the corner of the square, had already finished packing up the porridge, walked over, put a hand on Vy's shoulder, her face still in shock. "Vy," she said, her voice shaking, "I... I think I know who that caller is."

Vy turned around and looked straight at her aunt, her heart beating so fast that it hurt. "Tell me, Ms. Xuan. I need to know."

"That voice," Ms. Xuan said, her hands squeezing Vy's hand tightly, "is the voice of the customer at dinner, that rainy day, do you remember, he ordered a bowl of onion porridge with little pepper, wore gray-green protective clothing, sat alone at the corner of the restaurant to eat and then disappeared. She heard the name Minh, heard that voice ringing through the speakers, she was stunned, it was definitely you, Vy, she couldn't have been mistaken."

Those words, even though they only confirmed what Vy had felt for herself the moment that name rang out, still made her whole body tremble as if an electric current had passed through her. She remembered that rainy afternoon at Ms. Xuan's porridge shop, remembered the way her heart stopped when she heard a strange but strangely familiar voice, remembered the feeling of both wanting to go over and ask and being afraid to face the truth, and now, all those pieces - the slow deep voice, the habit of working the night shift, the industrial park, the name Minh resounding amid the noise of the walkie-talkie, and finally, the full name he introduced himself because of the responsibility of an emergency announcement, Pham Nhat. Minh, the engineer on duty at the Cam Duong Clean Water Plant - all of a sudden were no longer discrete, vague fragments, but had been assembled into an almost complete shape, a fact she almost no longer dared to doubt.

"I think it's him, auntie," Vy said, her voice breaking into a trembling whisper, tears began to roll uncontrollably, tears of an emotion too big, too complex to fully name — both a burst of happiness because finally, after seven months, she had in her hands something more concrete than an invisible voice, and a vague fear of having to face the real person behind the name. It was a deep sympathy when thinking that he had just faced a dangerous situation, alone in the middle of the night, right while she was standing here, amidst the warm lights and applause of the whole city.

Hai Duong walked over, had already packed up the equipment, saw Vy's expression, without having to ask, he immediately understood what had just happened. He didn't say anything, just stood quietly next to her, letting Ms. Xuan hug Vy, letting her two nieces stand there in the middle of the empty stage, amidst the steady sound of ocean waves echoing from afar, until the emotions subsided somewhat.

"What are you going to do now?" Hai Duong asked, after a long moment of silence, his voice was gentle but full of concern.

Vy wiped her tears and looked out at the night sea, where the moonlight still spread a long silver streak of light on the water's surface, just like every night she had stood alone wondering if the light at the sea's cape really existed or not. Now, for the first time, she felt like she no longer had to ask herself that question - that light was real, it had a name, a face she had once glimpsed in the middle of a porridge shop on a rainy night, a silent job that kept this whole city with clean water to use every day without many people ever thinking about the person behind it.

"I don't know for sure," she said, her voice calmed somewhat, but her eyes held a new determination, different from the passive waiting of the past seven months. "But I know, I can't just sit still and wait forever, brother. I've waited, been patient, and believed exactly as you advised me, but tonight, everything is different. I'm no longer searching in the dark like when I was looking for Ms. Bich Van and Mr. Tuong. This time, I have a real name, a real place to work. I think, it's time, instead of waiting for him to be brave enough to step into the light, maybe I should be the one to step forward, even if only Just one step, let him know, he doesn't have to be afraid of being alone anymore."

Ms. Xuan looked at her niece, her eyes were both worried and mixed with silent pride. She did not stop her, just nodded slightly. "No matter what you decide, I'm with you, Vy."

Vy stood there, in the middle of the stage with the lights turned off, in the middle of the square with only a few people now cleaning up the last rows of chairs, clearly feeling that tonight, not only had the program "Sleepless Waves" overcome the biggest challenge ever before the eyes of the person who had the right to decide its fate, but she herself, after seven long months of waiting in the darkness of a voice-only connection, had finally found the first real thread leading towards the light. morning. She took her phone out of her pocket, opened the notes app, her trembling fingers typed down three simple words but carried the weight of a long journey - "Pham Nhat Minh" - then sat quietly watching those three words appear on the bright screen in the middle of the dark night, knowing that, from this moment on, she would no longer be the person who only knew how to wait on this side of the wave, but would take the first steps herself, to find the light at the head of the sea with her own feet.