The fifteen-minute recess was stretching into something heavier. The hallway outside the boardroom was unusually silent, as though the entire administration wing were holding its breath. The sunlight falling through the narrow windows was flickering against the polished floor, shifting slowly as clouds drifted across the sky. That quiet, trembling light was falling over Jasmine, who was sitting on a wooden bench, elbows resting on her knees, her breathing shallow but steadier than before.
Lisa was sitting right next to her, shoulders touching, trying to act composed despite her shaking leg. She kept glancing toward the closed boardroom doors, as though expecting them to burst open again.
Nathalie was standing a short distance away, arms crossed, posture taut with anger she was trying to swallow. Every few seconds she looked toward Jasmine, her expression tightening with guilt that she could not fully hide.
Jasmine wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her voice was still trembling. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Lisa turned instantly. "No. Stop. Don't apologize."
"You didn't do anything wrong," Nathalie added, her tone low and controlled. "They pushed you too far."
Jasmine stared at her hands. "I couldn't breathe. I felt like the walls were closing on me."
"Because they interrogated you." Lisa's voice sharpened. "They treated you like a liability. It's disgusting."
Nathalie shot her a warning look. "Lisa, not now."
"No, exactly now," Lisa insisted, turning toward the teacher. "Do you really think you can play 'calm professional' after what they did? Jasmine almost collapsed again. She was shaking. And they wanted to continue."
Nathalie took a step closer. "Do you think I didn't notice? I'm furious. But if I show that anger in there, they'll spin it against me — and against her."
Lisa clenched her jaw, unable to argue with that.
Jasmine closed her eyes for a moment, the voices of both women blending, rising, falling — but this time, not like knives. More like distant echoes she could manage.
She took a slow breath. "I don't want them fighting each other anymore. Not today."
Both Lisa and Nathalie fell silent.
The counselor stepped out of the boardroom then, holding a file against her chest. She approached calmly, her expression softer than anyone else's inside had been.
"Jasmine," she said gently, "are you feeling well enough to continue?"
Jasmine hesitated.
Lisa spoke first. "She needs more time."
Nathalie added, "Her emotional state is still fragile."
But Jasmine, surprising herself, straightened slightly. "I can continue," she said, voice quiet but firm. "I need to finish this."
Both Lisa and Nathalie turned to her in shock.
"Are you sure?" Lisa whispered.
"No one will speak for me if I don't," Jasmine replied. "I don't want them deciding my story without hearing me."
Nathalie's eyes softened with worry and pride. "If you go back in, you don't go alone. We're beside you."
The counselor nodded. "I will insist on modified questioning. No more aggressive lines. The board has already been warned."
That gave Jasmine a measure of strength.
She rose slowly, and the counselor guided them toward the doors.
Inside, the atmosphere had shifted. The board members were no longer leaning forward with icy authority. They were sitting straighter, hands folded, the weight of what had happened lingering visibly around the table.
Madame Harvey cleared her throat. "Miss Jasmine, we apologize for the earlier intensity. It was not our intention to cause distress."
Jasmine nodded, though she did not fully believe the sincerity. But she refused to collapse again. Not in front of them.
The counselor returned to her seat, giving Jasmine a reassuring glance.
Madame Harvey continued, "We will resume, but at a measured pace."
Lisa muttered, "Good," under her breath.
Nathalie elbowed her lightly, urging restraint.
The legal advisor adjusted his glasses. "Before we proceed with further questioning, we have reviewed reports from teachers and staff who witnessed yesterday's incident." He tapped a stack of notes. "One testimony, in particular, is relevant."
The tension in the room thickened.
Jasmine exchanged a glance with Lisa. Nathalie stiffened visibly.
Madame Harvey nodded to the secretary, who stepped toward the door.
"Bring him in."
"Him?" Lisa echoed.
The door opened.
A young man walked in — tall, confident in posture, wearing the academy's uniform with crisp precision. His hair was neatly combed, his eyes calm. Jasmine recognized him instantly.
Elliot.
Top student. Debate champion. Known for being observant, articulate, and intimidatingly brilliant.
He approached the table with the poise of someone accustomed to speaking under scrutiny.
Lisa exhaled sharply. "What the hell is he doing here?"
Elliot bowed his head respectfully to the board. "You asked for an independent witness."
Jasmine felt her pulse spike. Elliot had been present in the hallway when she collapsed. He had seen part of the confrontation. But she did not know what he had heard.
The legal advisor gestured toward him. "Mr. Elliot, you may speak."
Elliot folded his hands behind his back. "Yesterday, I witnessed the incident in the east wing. I saw Jasmine faint. I saw Madame Laurent react. And I heard some fragments of the argument."
The board members leaned in.
Jasmine's stomach tightened.
Elliot continued, measured and precise. "I wish to clarify one point: the rumors circulating around the academy are exaggerated. Students have been projecting narratives onto the situation without factual basis."
Lisa blinked, shocked.
Nathalie let out a subtle breath of relief.
Elliot wasn't finished.
"That said," he continued, eyes steady, "I did observe emotional tension among all three parties. Jasmine appeared overwhelmed. Lisa appeared protective. Madame Laurent appeared distressed. But none of the actions I witnessed suggested romantic misconduct."
The legal advisor frowned. "You are certain?"
"Yes." Elliot's tone held no doubt. "What I saw was emotional conflict, not impropriety."
Madame Harvey interlocked her fingers. "Did you hear anything inappropriate said by Madame Laurent?"
"No," Elliot replied immediately. "The teacher was emotional, but not inappropriate."
Lisa looked at Jasmine, eyebrows raised. This was not what she had expected.
Jasmine felt light, almost dizzy with relief. Someone neutral — someone respected — had spoken the truth.
The board scribbled notes. The tension loosened in the room like a knot being slowly undone.
But then Elliot added something unexpected.
"However," he said, turning toward the board, "I believe the administration is handling this situation with unnecessary hostility."
The room froze.
Lisa's mouth dropped open.
Nathalie looked genuinely stunned.
Elliot continued calmly, "Jasmine is a student with a sensitive disposition. Pressuring her in this manner will not yield clarity — only harm."
The legal advisor stiffened. "This is not your place to claim."
"But it is my responsibility," Elliot countered, "when the wellbeing of a fellow student is compromised by the institution meant to protect her."
Silence.
Dead, heavy silence.
Madame Harvey looked displeased, but she could not dismiss the point without appearing authoritarian.
"Mr. Elliot," she said quietly, "we appreciate your testimony."
He nodded once. "I have nothing further to add."
He left the room without glancing at Jasmine, Lisa, or Nathalie — maintaining that detached, professional neutrality he was known for. But his intervention had shifted the board's posture.
Jasmine felt the shift too. For the first time all day, she felt like the room was no longer stacked against her.
Madame Harvey cleared her throat. "We will take his observations into account. However, our responsibility remains to assess whether emotional entanglements have compromised boundaries."
Jasmine sat straighter. "I can speak for myself."
The board turned their attention to her.
Her voice was steadier this time. "I have feelings I don't fully understand. For Lisa. For Madame Laurent. I didn't ask for them. I didn't want to hurt anyone. But none of this was caused by misconduct. I collapse when I feel trapped. Yesterday, I felt trapped."
Her hands trembled slightly, but she didn't hide them.
"I need support, yes. But I don't need to be treated like I'm part of an investigation. I didn't break rules. I'm just… overwhelmed."
The counselor smiled warmly at her. "Thank you for your honesty."
Lisa gave Jasmine a proud, soft look.
Nathalie's eyes shimmered with something raw — gratitude, guilt, admiration all tangled.
The board deliberated silently for a moment.
Finally, Madame Harvey spoke. "We will not pursue disciplinary action at this moment."
Jasmine exhaled shakily.
Lisa almost sagged with relief.
Nathalie kept her composure, but her shoulders eased slightly.
"However," Harvey continued, "we require the following:
– Weekly counseling sessions for Jasmine, voluntary but recommended.
– A formal review of boundaries in teacher-student interactions for Madame Laurent."
Nathalie nodded slowly, accepting it without protest.
"And," Harvey added, "Miss Lisa, you will also attend a session to address anger management and communication."
Lisa glared at her, but Jasmine squeezed her hand before she could protest.
Madame Harvey closed the file. "This matter is considered unresolved but stabilized. We will reconvene in two weeks."
Two weeks.
Enough time for emotions to shift. Enough time for tensions to rise again.
But also enough time for Jasmine to breathe.
As they stood to leave, Jasmine felt something inside her beginning to harden — not a wall, but a foundation. For once, she had not let fear silence her.
Outside, when the doors closed behind them, Lisa threw her hands up. "I can't believe Elliot of all people saved our asses."
Nathalie allowed herself a faint smile. "He is observant. And fair."
Jasmine leaned against the wall, exhaustion settling into her bones. "I want to go home."
Lisa wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Then let's go."
As they walked down the hallway together — teacher, student, and the girl caught between them — the academy's walls no longer felt like they were closing in.
Not today.
Today, Jasmine had found her voice.
And the academy had heard it.