Chapter 28 — Summer Rescuer

In early September, when the peak tourist season was over and Bai Duong gradually returned to a more leisurely pace of life, the Provincial Department of Tourism officially announced its decision to invest in a comprehensive upgrade of Bai Duong Rescue Station - building new facilities, equipping high-speed rescue boats, a surveillance camera system across the beach directly connected to the dispatch center, and most importantly, increasing the official staffing for the team from six people to twelve, ensuring that each shift always has enough manpower to respond to all situations. situation.

Trong Nghi, during the meeting to announce the decision, could not hide his emotions. "During my thirty years in the profession, I have witnessed many times that the rescue team had to operate with inadequate equipment and limited manpower, while always facing unpredictable dangers. Today, I can proudly say that the sacrifices and efforts of all the children, especially Thao Nhi's, have brought about a real change, not only for Bai Duong, but can also be a model for many other localities across the country."

Along with this upgrade, Trong Nghi officially promoted Thao Nhi to the position of permanent Deputy Captain, recognizing not only her excellent professional capacity but also the spiritual leadership role she demonstrated throughout the past tumultuous summer. Mr. Kiet, who was her biggest skeptical opponent at the beginning of the season, is now the first person to stand up and applaud, the smile on his lips sincere and not forced at all.

"Well deserved, deputy boss," he teased, making the whole team burst into laughter in a rare happy atmosphere.

"Don't call me that," Thao Nhi smiled, even though her heart was filled with joy and gratitude. "I'm still your Thao Nhi."

After the meeting, Anh Kiet pulled Thao Nhi to a private corner, his face more serious than usual. “I wanted to tell you something, before things get any busier with your new position,” he said, his voice holding a rare hesitation. "At the beginning of the summer, I treated you and Mr. Duong unfairly, because I was afraid of change, afraid of things I didn't understand. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize you were right."

"You don't need to apologize anymore, Anh Kiet," Thao Nhi replied, smiling reassuringly. "You've proven yourself with your actions, not just once, but many times throughout this summer. That's the most important thing."

"I just want you to know," Anh Kiet continued, his voice becoming more sincere, "that despite my stubborn appearance, I always admire your steadfastness, even when I'm most skeptical. You're the reason I remember why I chose this profession in the first place."

The two stood there for a moment, not needing to say anything else, simply sharing a new understanding between two teammates who had gone through countless life and death challenges together this past summer.

That afternoon, Thao Nhi visited Mr. Dat as usual on her day off, but this time, she brought with her a special gift — an official certificate of merit from the Provincial Department of Tourism, recognizing his contributions during his forty years in the rescue profession, along with an official invitation to become an honorary advisor for the province's new lifeguard training program.

"How do you deserve this honor?" Mr. Dat said, his voice choked as he held the certificate in his hand, his eyes filled with tears.

"You deserve it more than anyone," Thao Nhi replied, holding his hand tightly. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to overcome my fear of returning to the ocean after Dad passed away. Without what you taught me, I wouldn't have been able to become the lifeguard I am today. You were the one who planted the seeds for everything that happened this summer."

Mr. Dat hugged her, a hug containing the feelings of a teacher for the best student of his life, of a person who had silently carried the burden of a secret for eight years and was now completely freed. "You've done what I, despite my best efforts, couldn't do eight years ago," he said. "You turned pain into action, into justice. That is the greatest gift I can give to my father, and to you too."

"Will you accept to be a consultant?" Thao Nhi asked, her eyes full of hope.

"I will accept," Mr. Dat replied, nodding firmly, his old eyes shining with a rare youthful light. "I think this is the best way for me to continue to contribute, to ensure that the lessons from this summer — both in professional skills and in the courage to face the truth — will be passed on to the next generation of lifeguards, not only at Duong Xanh but also in many other places across this country's coastline."

Thao Nhi smiled, feeling warm at the thought of Mr. Dat, the teacher who guided both her father and her through the most difficult years, now having the opportunity to pass on that valuable legacy to many generations to come, ensuring that the valuable lessons of this summer will never be forgotten.

That evening, when Thao Nhi returned home, she found her mother sitting in the living room, in front of an old family photo hanging on the wall — a photo of the three of them on the sand, her father wearing a lifeguard uniform, holding a grinning little eight-year-old girl. But this time, next to the old photo, there is a new photo frame - a photo of Thao Nhi at the memorial service last week, standing in front of the stone stele engraved with her father's name, her face both emotional and full of determination.

"I just framed this photo," Mrs. Hoa said, when she saw her daughter enter. "I thought it would be a good time to put two pictures side by side — past and present, pain and healing."

Thao Nhi sat down next to her mother, and they both looked at the two photos in silence for a long time. "Do you think," she asked softly, "that now I can really let go of the pain, and move on?"

"Let go does not mean forgetting, Nhi," Mrs. Hoa replied, her voice was gentle but understanding. "I think we will always carry the memory of your father and what happened. But now, that memory is no longer an oppressive burden, but a source of strength, a reason for us to appreciate our present life more."

Her mother's words made Thao Nhi feel a deep peace spreading throughout her body, a feeling she had been searching for the past eight years but had never truly reached until this moment. She looked out the window, where the first moonlight of the month was rising higher in the night sky, illuminating the sea in the distance with a strangely peaceful, sparkling strip of silver light.

"I think I'm ready to think about the future, Mom," she said, a gentle smile on her lips. "Not only the future of my career, but also my own future."

Mrs. Hoa looked at her daughter, her eyes filled with a mother's understanding. "I guess you're talking about Mr. Duong, right?"

Thao Nhi blushed, nodded slightly, and both mother and daughter burst out laughing. Warm laughter echoed in the small house, completely breaking the heavy atmosphere that had covered the past eight years, making way for a new chapter full of hope that was gradually opening before their eyes.

"He's a good person, Nhi," Mrs. Hoa said, her voice becoming a little more serious. "I've been observing him all this summer — the way he treats you, the way he's not afraid to stand up for the truth, the way he always puts your safety first even though he's at great risk himself. Your dad, if he were still alive, would definitely love him very much."

"I think so too," Thao Nhi replied, her eyes softening when thinking about Bach Duong. "He was the first person who made me believe that I could be strong and allow myself to be loved and protected, without losing myself in the process."

Mrs. Hoa held her daughter's hand, her eyes filled with the love of a mother who had accompanied her daughter through the most difficult years. "I just want you to be happy, Nhi. You have sacrificed too much for justice, for your family, for this whole town. Now it's time for you to spend a part for your own happiness."

Thao Nhi nodded, feeling the warmth spread in her heart when she heard her mother's sincere words of encouragement. She looked out the window again, where the moonlight was still shining gently on the sea, and in her heart, a feeling of complete peace, the feeling she had been searching for eight long years, had finally found a solid footing.