Chapter 25 — The End-of-Day Train

Ten days after the hearing, an official document from the Provincial People's Committee was sent to Van Phong station, announcing the decision to postpone the plan to close the Thanh Chau - Van Phong line, and at the same time assign the Department of Transport to coordinate with relevant parties to complete a project to convert the operating model towards "heritage train route combined to serve people", as the plan proposed by Khanh Chi and Thien An's group, within six months.

It wasn't a final, complete victory — there were still many procedures, many meetings, many rounds of approvals ahead — but for Khanh Chi and the small community that had fought together over the past few months, it was a victory big enough for them to allow themselves to celebrate.

The document also states that, in parallel with the development of the conversion project, the Department of Transport will coordinate with relevant authorities to review the entire accident record at Deo Vong Pass twelve years ago, on the basis of new documents and evidence provided at the hearing, to have a more official and fair conclusion about the responsibilities of the parties involved. Reading this paragraph, Khanh Chi had to sit down, her hands trembling as she hugged the document, tears rolling down with emotion - this was what she and Thien An had hoped for more than saving the route, an official recognition, in writing, that their father was not at fault in the tragedy of the past.

She immediately called Thien An, her voice trembling because she couldn't hide her happiness mixed with emotion. "Brother, they have agreed to review your father's case. Officially, in writing."

The other end of the line was silent for a long time, only hearing the sound of rapid breathing, then Thien An's voice rang out, choking without concealment. "Thank you, Khanh Chi. Thank you for everything."

The evening of receiving the news, the whole group gathered at Y Van's coffee shop, the atmosphere was more bustling than any previous meeting. Y Van brought out a small cake, on which was scrawled the words "Last train of the day — continues" with fresh cream, making everyone laugh because of its simplicity and sincerity.

"We did it!" Boi Linh screamed with excitement, hugged Khanh Chi, then hugged Mr. Canh and Thien An, unable to hide her tears of happiness.

Mr. Canh raised his glass of soft drink as if raising a glass of wine in celebration, his voice trembling with emotion. "I've lived to this age, never thought I would see a day like today. Thank you all, for not letting the memories of so many people be forgotten."

Amid that celebratory atmosphere, Khanh Chi quietly pulled Thien An to a quieter corner, wanting a private moment between the two of them after everything they had been through together.

"I'm still surprised," she said, smiling at him. "From an unknown passenger boarding the train at the end of the day with a mysterious notebook, to now..."

"Up to now, I am the luckiest man in the world, because of being loved by a wonderful woman like you," Thien An continued, holding her hand, his eyes filled with affection.

Khanh Chi smiled and lightly punched his shoulder because his words were a bit cheesy, but inside her heart, she felt unusually warm. "I have an idea I want to discuss with you."

"What's the idea?"

"I think, when the traditional room at Van Phong station is expanded according to your plan, we should set aside a solemn corner to separately commemorate both my father and your father - not just photos, but also the full story of what they went through that night, written down clearly and honestly, so that anyone who comes to visit can understand the price of safety and courage."

Thien An looked at her, his eyes filled with tears. "I think it's the most beautiful idea I've ever heard. My dad, if he knew this, would definitely feel a lot of comfort."

They sat together, discussing the details of that memorial corner — there would be both of their full names, a short paragraph telling the truth about the night of the accident, possibly accompanied by a picture of an old signal light and a few other memorabilia contributed by both families. The idea is gradually being concretized, becoming an indispensable part of the upcoming Van Phong station renovation plan.

"I think, I should also invite Mrs. Dang, Miss Nhan, and Uncle Thin to contribute ideas for this memorial corner," Khanh Chi added, ideas kept flowing one after another. "They are all people who have lived along this route through many ups and downs. They will certainly have valuable perspectives that we have not thought of."

"You're right," Thien An nodded in agreement. "I think, instead of just a quiet memorial corner, I should turn it into a more lively space — where people can record their own stories, add photos, write more messages, so that it continues to be built up over time, not framed at a fixed time."

"Just like the railway itself," Khanh Chi smiled, "is constantly being written by the people who pass through it."

Later in the evening, when most people had left, only Khanh Chi and Thien An remained, Y Van delicately retreated inside to clean up, giving the two of them their own space.

"Miss Chi," Thien An spoke up, his voice suddenly becoming unusually serious. "I have something to tell you, I've been thinking a lot these past few days."

Khanh Chi looked at him, waiting.

"I decided to move completely back to Van Phong," he said. "Not just to be close to my grandmother, but also because I want to be directly involved in the process of improving this line, from the first steps until it actually becomes a reality. And most importantly," he paused, squeezing her hand, "I want to be close to you, every day, not just during the last train of the day."

Khanh Chi felt like her heart was about to burst with happiness. She looked at him, her eyes also shining with a difficult to hide joy. "I really hope that, Thien An."

On the way to the station, they stopped by to visit Mrs. Tam for a while, even though it was late. The old lady was still awake, sitting on the front porch as usual. Hearing the news, she immediately hugged them both, tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. "Finally, finally, your son has been vindicated," she said, her voice trembling with choking emotion. "I'm just sorry he's not alive to see this day."

"Grandma," Khanh Chi said, holding the old lady's trembling hands, "I believe somewhere, you are still seeing all that is going on, and you will definitely be very proud of Thien An, of what he has done to exonerate you."

Mrs. Tam nodded, smiled through her tears, then urged them both to go home and rest because it was very late. They left that small house with more relief than ever, as if a burden that had weighed heavily on three generations of the family had finally been lifted.

From Mrs. Tam's house, they continued to walk along the familiar road leading to the station, where two old train cars were still sitting in the depot, waiting for a new tomorrow, a future that now, thanks to the efforts of so many people, was no longer as gloomy as the previous weeks.

Standing in front of the quiet train station under the moonlight, Khanh Chi looked up at the starry night sky, feeling a deep peace that she had never felt since her father's death. She knows, there is still a lot of work ahead - completing the project, passing approval rounds, rebuilding the traditional room, and many other challenges of a transforming railway. But for the first time in twelve years, she felt like she no longer had to shoulder that pain and responsibility alone — she had Thien An, a whole community, and the legacy of her two fathers who taught them lessons about courage and dedication, to continue on the road ahead together.

Thien An stood next to her, gently putting his arm around her shoulder. They both silently looked at the two old train cars under the faint security light of the station platform. "Do you think," he asked softly, "what we three, if we could see this, would say?"

Khanh Chi smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "I think, you will simply tell us to take good care of this ship, bring everyone back to a safe place, as you have always thought about throughout your professional life."

“Then,” Thien An said, his voice filled with determination, “we will do exactly that, every day, on every train, for as long as we can.”

The night wind gently blew across the station platform, carrying the familiar smell of iron and steel mixed with the scent of night grass, and in that peaceful moment, they both clearly felt that, even though the journey ahead was still long, they had enough strength, enough love, to complete that path together.