Chapter 9 — Reef Keeper

After meeting with Phan Bao Duy, Khue and Nguyen decided to spend an afternoon together surveying along the southern coast of the island, near the construction area of Kinh Duong Bay resort, in the hope of finding clues about the underground discharge pipe they suspected. They choose to travel by small basket boat, less noticeable than a motorboat, weaving along the rocky rapids near the shore.

"Be careful, this area is regularly patrolled by resort security." Nguyen spoke softly, rowing the boat gently to avoid making loud noises. "I should only observe from afar and not get too close to the construction area."

Khue nodded, not taking his eyes off the binoculars, carefully observing the coastal area where tall construction cranes were rising in the afternoon sky. From afar, she could clearly see concrete blocks being poured down to build the foundations for the resort villas, and a large gray pipeline system being installed, partly running underground under the sand, partly exposed, waiting to be buried.

"Look at that." Khue pointed her finger, her voice quiet but full of excitement. "That pipe system, it runs straight to the sea, unlike a normal water supply pipe."

Nguyen raised his binoculars to observe, his face gradually became serious. "It's true that the pipe diameter is much larger than a civil water supply pipe. Looking at the way they arrange it, it seems like this is a construction wastewater or stormwater drainage system, leading straight to the sea instead of going through the treatment station according to regulations."

They continued to observe for a while, recording images from afar with telephoto lenses, trying not to reveal their location. Suddenly, a small motorboat appeared from the shore, running along the coastline at quite a fast speed. On the boat were two men wearing black uniforms of the resort's security force.

"Get down!" Nguyen spoke softly but urgently, pulling Khue close to the rocky rapids, where their basket boat could hide under the shadow of large protruding rocks.

Both held their breath, clearly heard the sound of the boat engine passing by, slowed down a bit as if observing the surroundings, then accelerated again to continue south. When the sound of the boat engine was far away, Khue breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that her hands were still shaking from nervousness.

"They patrol this area so strictly." Khue said, her voice still a bit nervous. "Does a resort construction project normally need such heavy patrolling by security?"

"It's not normal at all." Nguyen replied, his eyes full of thought. "That makes me even more convinced that they are hiding something important, beyond simply protecting the construction site from theft of construction supplies."

They decided to retreat safely, sailing back north, away from the dangerous area. On the way home, the two sat in silence for a long time, only the steady sound of the oars splashing the water broke the silence.

"Mr. Nguyen," Khue spoke first, his voice thoughtful, "have you ever felt awkward, when your work sometimes had to confront the people in your neighborhood, the people you grew up with?"

Nguyen was silent for a moment, his eyes looking far out to sea before answering. "Yes. Many times I feel like I'm standing between two shores, one side is the responsibility to protect the sea in accordance with the law, the other side is neighborly love, friends from childhood now have to suffer because of those regulations. One time I had to make a record to punish an old classmate for fishing in a restricted area, he didn't see my face for several months."

"So why do you still choose to do this job?" Khue asked, really curious.

"Because I believe that if no one takes a serious stand to protect the sea, in the end, it will be the people I love who will suffer the most." Nguyen replied, his voice firm. "My father once told me that the sea is not an enemy, nor an endless gold mine, but a friend that needs to be cared for so that it can continue to give. I believe what he said, and I want to use what I have learned to do that, even if I have to face misunderstandings and even resentment from the people I love."

Khue was speechless at Nguyen's answer, feeling the sincerity and silent sacrifices behind his career choice. She suddenly realized that the two of them had something profound in common: they were both carrying the burden of having to prove that love for the sea does not conflict with love for the community, even though the road to prove it is always full of thorns.

"My dad used to tell me the same thing." Khue shared, her voice softened. "He said the sea is like a difficult friend. If you love you, you will be rewarded. If you are greedy, you will lose everything. At that time, I was young and didn't understand everything. Now every time I dive into the reef, I remember his words and they are even more profound."

"You miss your dad a lot, don't you?" Nguyen asked, his voice gentle, full of empathy.

"Much." Khue admitted, her eyes were a little teary but she tried to hold it back. "It's been twelve years, but there are times when I still feel like just yesterday he took me to the sea, showing me each species of fish and each type of coral. I do this job, partly because I want to keep a part of him, want to continue what he loved and cherished."

She paused for a moment, her fingers unconsciously brushing the edge of the boat, as if trying to muster the courage to continue speaking. "There's something I've never told anyone, not even Mrs. Bay. The night before my father went on his last trip, he sat with me for a long time on the porch, telling me about every coral reef he knew by heart, as if he was trying to cram everything he knew into the head of a fifteen-year-old child in a single night. At that time, I just thought he was free so he told stories. Now that I think about it, I keep wondering if he had a premonition of what was about to happen."

"Maybe you don't know exactly what's coming," Nguyen said softly, "but people who have been at sea for a long time often have a special sense, a silent vigilance that they themselves can't name. My father is the same, there are nights before a big storm, he suddenly tells me all sorts of things, as if afraid he won't have a chance to say anything again."

Khue nodded, feeling a little relieved when someone really listened and understood, not with empty words of comfort but with their own life experiences. The basket boat still floats slowly along the water, the two rocky shores gradually recede, giving way to the familiar white sand beach near the wharf.

Nguyen looked at Khue, his heart filled with deep affection for the resilience and sincere affection she had for her father. He wanted to say something comforting, but was afraid that empty words wouldn't be enough touch the pain she was carrying. Finally, he just reached out and gently placed it on her shoulder reassuringly.

"I believe your father, wherever he is, will be proud of what you are doing." Nguyen said, his voice sincere. "And I promise, I will work with you to find the truth, whatever it is."

Khue looked at him, a deep gratitude appeared in her eyes, mixed with a strange warm feeling that she had never allowed herself to feel since the day her father passed away. She didn't say anything more, just nodded slightly, leaving Nguyen's warm hand on her shoulder for a moment longer before he withdrew to continue rowing.

When the boat docked, it was late afternoon, the sunset dyed the sky into a brilliant orange-red strip. They both carried the boat ashore and packed their things in comfortable silence, not needing to say another word to feel the bond that was gradually forming between them.

"Tomorrow I will send a preliminary report on the questionable exhaust system to the Provincial Conservation Area Management Board, requesting coordination with the Department of Natural Resources and Environment for an official inspection." Nguyen said as they parted ways at the wharf. "Hopefully this time there will be a different result."

"I will also contact Mr. Duy and share more pictures we just took." Khue replied. "Thank you for today, both for your work and... for what you just shared."

Nguyen smiled, his eyes gently looked at her in the sunset. "Thank you for trusting me to share with me. I hope we will continue to accompany you on this journey, until we find out the truth."

On the way home, Khue felt a gentle but clear change in her heart, a ray of warm light creeping in amid the heavy days of anxiety and sadness. She did not dare to name the exact feelings that were brewing in her heart, but she knew that Chiem Bao Nguyen's appearance in her life was not simply a colleague or an ally in the investigation, but also something more precious than that, something she was not ready to name but also did not want to deny.

That night, while lying in bed, Khue opened her father's diary and read it again, and for the first time in many years, she read those words not only with pain and nostalgia, but also with a new hope — hope that the truth would soon be revealed, that the coral reef would revive, and that she would not have to continue on this journey alone.