The Dive Signal They Misread

In my past life, I desperately tried to stop my boyfriend, Ryan, and his childhood friend, Chloe, from attempting a perilous extreme cave dive.

But Chloe wouldn't listen. She dove down, touched the bottom, and got stuck in the silt.

To save her, Ryan pushed me into the mud with his own hands, so Chloe could use me as a stepping stone to escape.

"Christiana, don't be so selfish. Chloe is scared; save her first. You're a professional diving instructor, I know you'll be fine."

He took Chloe's hand and swam to the surface without looking back.

And I died in that murky silt.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn.

As Chloe prepared to dive further, I didn't stop them. Instead, I slowly gave them a thumbs-up.

Chloe looked at me triumphantly.

But they didn't know that this signal meant "danger, abort dive."

"Christiana, are you chicken?"

Chloe's provocative voice reached my ears through the bone conduction headset.

"I told Ryan that if we succeeded in this challenge, our live stream viewership would hit top 1. What's your problem with that?"

The cold water enveloped me, but it was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.

Before me, Ryan impatiently fiddled with his full-face mask, his eyes full of disgust.

"Christiana, don't bring your professional paranoia here. Chloe wants to see the sights down there, so I'm taking her. If you're scared, go back to the surface."

This scene was all too familiar.

In my past life, it was at this very depth, at this deadly dive site called "Skull Cave."

I earnestly tried to dissuade them, explaining that the area ahead was an unexplored silt zone, highly prone to "silt out," which would lead to dangerously low visibility.

And what happened?

Ryan forced the dive, and Chloe, due to her poor technique, touched the bottom and was sucked into the silt. In her struggle, she kicked up a massive cloud of mud, obscuring our vision.

In a panic, she clung to my leg.

And Ryan, my boyfriend of many years whom I deeply loved, brutally kicked my regulator to help Chloe push off and escape.

He pressed my shoulders, forcing me beneath, letting Chloe step on me to get out of the mud.

I sank deep into the silt, my lungs filling with mud, dying a suffocating, agonizing death.

Until my very last breath, I saw them kissing through their masks.

Ryan's voice came through the bone conduction headset:

"After that crisis, I realized Chloe is the most important person in my life."

"Thank you for your sacrifice to save Chloe. We'll make sure to teach our child about you."

In this moment of rebirth, the phantom pain of suffocation still lingered in my lungs and throat.

I was underwater, and I quickly regulated my breathing to avoid any signs of carbon dioxide poisoning.

I watched Ryan give the dive signal again.

It was Chloe's invitation to challenge the hundred-meter abyss.

This time, I didn't act like a maniac, trying to yank open their tank valves.

I adjusted my buoyancy in the water, steadying myself.

Then, facing the live stream camera, I slowly raised my right hand.

And gave them a clear thumbs-up.

In diving, a thumbs-up means 'end the dive, ascend.'

Unfortunately, they hadn't been listening when I repeatedly emphasized dive signals before we went into the water.

Chloe thought I was showing off, and she rolled her eyes at me.

She impatiently cut me off: "Alright, alright, how many times have you said it? Do you really think we've never dived before? We know all about it, you don't need to lecture us."

Ryan gently stroked Chloe's head, completely ignoring my awkward situation.

Now, seeing my signal, Ryan paused, then a flicker of triumph crossed his eyes.

They thought I was agreeing, even praising them for being 'awesome.'

He probably thought I had finally learned to be submissive.

Chloe, even through her mask, rolled her eyes at me again, then linked arms with Ryan. Like two reckless lovers, they plunged headfirst into the darkness that had devoured my life in my past existence.

I watched their figures gradually blur.

Without hesitation, I turned, checked my pressure gauge, and initiated the standard ascent procedure.

You can't save people who are determined to self-destruct.

Since you're so adventurous.

Then I wish you an eternal embrace in that silt.

I surfaced alone, the sunlight so bright it made my eyes squint.

The safety officer on the boat looked at me in shock: "Christiana, why are you alone? Where are Ryan and Chloe?"

I removed my mask, slowly unhooking my BCD.

A timely look of helplessness and bitterness crossed my face.

"They said I was getting in the way, too controlling. They insisted on challenging the hundred-meter crevice."

"I couldn't stop them, so I came up first to avoid any arguments escalating into an accident down there."

The crew members exchanged glances, and the live stream comments started scrolling furiously.

This instructor is so irresponsible, just left them down there?

Shut up, Ryan brought this on himself. Christiana is an instructor, not a babysitter.

Exactly, they signed a waiver. Adults are responsible for their own actions.

I ignored the commotion and found a corner to sit in.

My GoPro was clutched tightly in my hand.

It held the most dramatic scene of our farewell.

Time ticked by, minute by minute.

The surfacing time had already passed by ten minutes.

The atmosphere on the boat began to grow heavy.

The safety officer kept checking his watch, anxiously calling into the walkie-talkie, only to hear the dead static of silence.

Another five minutes passed, and suddenly, many bubbles appeared on the calm sea surface. The water churned.

Two figures burst out of the water, looking disheveled and frantic.

They weren't performing a normal 'decompression ascent,' but an uncontrolled emergency ascent C extremely dangerous.

Ryan dragged a semi-conscious Chloe, his face contorted in agony, blood gushing from his nose and mouth.

These were classic symptoms of lung overexpansion injury and decompression sickness.

"Help! Quick, save her!"

Ryan's voice was hoarse, filled with extreme fear and trembling.

The crew members scrambled to pull both of them onto the deck.

Chloe's face was ashen, and her legs were twisted in a grotesque way.

As soon as Ryan was on board, he didn't even bother to wipe the blood from his face.

His bloodshot eyes fixated on me, like he wanted to devour me.

The next second, he charged at me like a madman.

"Christiana! You venomous witch!"

"You turned off our spare air valves! You tried to kill Chloe!"

His shout drew everyone's attention to me.

Divers from nearby boats also gathered around.

The person filming, thinking they had stumbled upon great material, shoved the live stream camera right into my face.

Ryan lunged at me, raising his hand to strike.

I was prepared, sidestepping quickly.

Due to severe decompression sickness, his balance was terrible, and he face-planted onto the deck, falling flat on his face.

"Agh!!!"

He screamed in pain but didn't forget to point at me and roar.

"Everyone saw it! It was her! She was jealous of Chloe and deliberately messed with our gear underwater!"

"Christiana, I'll make sure you go to jail! I'll make you pay for this with your life!"

Only three of us were diving, and I was the first to surface.

Ryan's sudden accusation made it hard not to suspect if I had done something underwater.

In this era where sympathy often sways towards the injured party, his blood-soaked body and the unconscious Chloe instantly tilted the scales of public opinion.

The onlookers, unaware of the truth, started pointing fingers at me.

"That's so cruel, killing someone over jealousy?"

"You never know what's in a person's heart. She looks professional, but she's so wicked."

Faced with the accusations, I didn't immediately retort hysterically.

I looked at him calmly.

"Ryan, you need proof for what you say."

"You claim I turned off your valves? How exactly did I do that?"

I bent down, lifted my tankwhich was still almost fulland showed it to everyone.

"Less than five minutes after going down, I initiated the ascent procedure."

"My dive computer clearly shows that I maintained a distance of over ten meters from you two at all times."

"Do I have magic, then? Can I wirelessly shut off your oxygen valves?"

Ryan was stunned.

He hadn't expected me to be so calm, nor for me to immediately present evidence.

But he quickly recovered and changed his argument.

"Then you stood by and watched us die! You're a professional diving instructor, you had a duty to protect us!"

"You knew it was dangerous down there, why didn't you forcibly pull us back?"

"You just wanted us to die!"

This absurd reasoning almost made me laugh out loud.

In my past life, I tried to pull you back, and you killed me.

This life, I respect other people's choices, and now I'm being accused of abandoning them.

"Ryan, are you a child?"

I looked down at him, sprawled on the deck.

"Before we even got in the water, I warned you three times that this season wasn't suitable for diving. But you still insisted on going down, even signing a liability waiver."

"Underwater, you gave me the finger and told me to get lost."

"Now that something's happened, you're blaming me for not stopping you from going to your deaths?"

"I'm an instructor, not your mother!"

The roar of the emergency helicopter grew louder, coming from afar.

Medical personnel rushed down with stretchers.

As Chloe was being carried away, I clearly saw her eyelashes flutter.

Was she awake? Still faking it?

Yes, waking up now to face public scrutiny would be less advantageous than playing the role of a delicate victim.

Before Ryan was loaded onto the stretcher, he clutched the doctor's hand tightly, shouting at the camera:

"I'm going to sue her! I will definitely sue her!"

"Viewers, bear witness for me, Christiana is the one who harmed us!"

The live stream comment section exploded instantly.

The hashtag #Vicious Coach Murder my BF# rocketed to the top of trending topics at lightning speed.

I watched the distant helicopter, a cold smirk playing on my lips.

Make a scene. The bigger, the better.

This current spotlight would be the fuel to burn them later.

At the hospital, Ryan's parents and Chloe's parents appeared as if on cue, blocking the entrance to the emergency room.

Seeing me, Chloe's mother lunged forward, trying to grab my hair.

"You murderer! Give me back my daughter!"

The police, who had been standing by, promptly stopped her.

"What are you doing! This is a hospital! State your business calmly!"

I adjusted my collar, which had been ruffled, and calmly looked at the aggressively confronting me.

"Officer, I'm here to cooperate with the investigation and submit evidence."

In the hospital room, Ryan was lying in bed, holding his phone, weeping live on stream.

Chloe, though awake, was paralyzed from the waist down due to severe decompression sickness. She was now crying despairingly, clutching Ryan.

Seeing me enter, Ryan's eyes turned red.

"Christiana! You have the nerve to show your face!"

"I'll make sure you rot in jail! I'll make you lose everything you own!"

Millions of viewers were watching online.

The comments were all cursing me to hell.

The officer frowned, signaling Ryan to put down his phone.

"Ryan, Christiana says she has video evidence. We need to verify it."

Ryan sneered, his face full of disdain.

"Video? What video? Perfect, let everyone see how you stood by and watched us die!"

He thought the video I had only recorded the moment I left them underwater.

He believed that by insisting I had "abandoned my students," he could morally crush me and extort a huge sum in compensation.

I said nothing, merely connecting my GoPro to the hospital room's TV.

The screen lit up.

In clear 4K quality, the deep blue of the ocean was breathtaking.

The video began with Ryan and Chloe giving me the middle finger, then decisively diving deeper.

Next, it showed me giving a thumbs-up and turning to leave.

Up to this point, Ryan was still shouting: "See! Everyone saw it! She just left! She abandoned us!"

However, his words had barely faded.

The next second, the entire room fell silent.