The administration wing was already buzzing when they arrived. The building was usually quiet at this hour, but today the atmosphere was humming with restrained curiosity. Staff members were moving briskly between offices, their expressions tight, their voices clipped. Something about the energy in the air told Jasmine that this was no longer a simple review — it was an inquest.
The light from the tall windows was spilling across the marble floor, reflecting sharply enough to make every step echo louder than it should. Jasmine was walking with her shoulders drawn inward, her bag held close to her chest, as if bracing against impact. Lisa remained close on her right side, steady and vigilant. Nathalie followed a step behind, her composure controlled but fragile around the edges.
As they approached the boardroom, Jasmine felt the weight of glances from passing staff. Some were sympathetic. Some were curious. Others were already judging.
Her pulse was rising, her breathing shallow.
Lisa noticed. "You're doing fine," she murmured. "Just stick with us."
Jasmine nodded, though the reassurance barely reached her.
Nathalie walked ahead and knocked once on the double doors. The secretary opened them immediately, stepping aside with rigid professionalism.
"The board is ready. Please take your seats."
Inside, the room was broad and formal, with a long polished table at the center. Six members of the administration board were already seated: the principal, two vice principals, a legal advisor, the head of student affairs, and a counselor. Their expressions formed a spectrum of neutrality, curiosity, and concern.
The principal — Madame Harvey — gestured for them to sit.
"Thank you for coming," she said. "We will proceed calmly and professionally. Please understand that this meeting is not meant to punish, but to clarify the situation and protect all parties involved."
It sounded diplomatic, but Jasmine could hear the subtext: We are already worried. We expect complications.
Jasmine sat between Lisa and Nathalie, feeling the tension stretching thin across the table like a wire ready to snap.
Madame Harvey folded her hands. "Let us begin with a factual recounting of the events leading to this meeting."
Her eyes landed on Nathalie.
"Madame Laurent, you reported an emotional incident involving yourself and student Jasmine during school hours. You also reported that another student, Lisa, became involved. The three of you were seen in the hallway, where some public tension occurred. Is this accurate?"
"Yes," Nathalie answered calmly. "There was a conflict. However, at no point did I act outside professional boundaries."
"And yet," the legal advisor interjected, "students claimed to have heard personal exchanges between you and Jasmine that did not sound entirely… professional."
Jasmine stiffened. Nathalie inhaled slowly.
"I understand how it may have appeared," Nathalie said, controlling her voice. "I raised my voice. I spoke emotionally. It was inappropriate for a teacher to speak in such a tone, but it was not romantic or intimate. It was a moment of human worry for a student's wellbeing."
The board members exchanged glances. They were listening carefully, but not yet convinced.
Madame Harvey turned to Jasmine next.
"Miss Jasmine, we need clarity regarding your relationship with Madame Laurent. Do you feel pressured or influenced by her in any way?"
The question struck her like a blow.
Jasmine's throat tightened. She looked at the table. Her mind was racing, fragments of anxiety crashing into each other.
Lisa leaned closer, whispering, "Answer honestly. Don't be scared."
Jasmine nodded tremulously.
When she spoke, her voice was soft. "No. Madame Laurent has never pressured me. She never asked anything inappropriate. I… I was overwhelmed yesterday. That's why I collapsed."
"And why were you overwhelmed?" the counselor asked, leaning forward gently.
Jasmine hesitated. Every answer she could give felt dangerous in some way. She tried to shape her thoughts into words.
"Because… people were watching me. Asking things. Assuming things. And I felt trapped."
The counselor nodded. "Understandable. But we also need to know if any emotional confusion you feel toward Madame Laurent is affecting your judgement."
Jasmine froze.
The room tensed.
Lisa's hand curled into a fist on her lap. Nathalie's posture straightened sharply.
Madame Harvey added, "We want to ensure your feelings are your own, without external influence."
Jasmine forced herself to breathe.
"My feelings are mine," she said quietly. "And they confuse me. But that's not Madame Laurent's fault."
Lisa exhaled, as if relieved that Jasmine didn't hide the truth.
But the board was clearly alarmed.
"You admit to emotional complexity toward your teacher?" the vice principal pressed.
Jasmine nodded slowly, unable to lie.
The legal advisor's pen scratched quickly across the page.
Nathalie tensed. "With all due respect, Jasmine's emotions do not imply misconduct. Students develop attachments. It happens. What matters is how the adult manages it — and I have strictly maintained professional boundaries."
Madame Harvey studied her closely. "We will evaluate that. But first, we need to understand the role of the third party involved."
Her gaze shifted to Lisa.
"Miss Lisa, your behavior yesterday was described as volatile. You confronted Madame Laurent in the hallway. What exactly triggered your reaction?"
Lisa lifted her chin, trying to look composed but failing to mask the rawness in her eyes.
"I was scared," she said. "Jasmine collapsed in front of everyone. She wasn't breathing properly. And I felt like everything was spiraling. I shouted. I shouldn't have. But it wasn't about disrespect. It was about panic."
"And your relationship with Jasmine?" the counselor asked.
Lisa glanced at Jasmine briefly, then faced the board. "We're close. Very close. And I care about her. A lot."
"And is it romantic?" the legal advisor asked bluntly.
Jasmine's breath caught.
Lisa swallowed before answering. "Yes. For me, yes. But I know Jasmine is uncertain. And I'm not pushing her to choose anything. Not now."
The admissions director scribbled more notes.
The tension became suffocating.
Jasmine's heart was hammering. She didn't know where to look. Every word spoken felt like a thread unraveling.
Madame Harvey continued, "Miss Jasmine, do you reciprocate Lisa's feelings?"
It felt like the room collapsed inward.
Jasmine stared at the table. Sweat prickled her palms.
Lisa whispered, "It's okay. You don't have to—"
But Jasmine lifted her head.
"I care about Lisa," she said, voice trembling. "Deeply. She's important to me. I just… I don't know where my feelings begin or end right now. Everything feels tangled."
Lisa lowered her eyes, accepting the painful honesty.
The board members exchanged another round of looks that sent a chill down Jasmine's spine.
The legal advisor spoke next. "The issue we see emerging is not misconduct from Madame Laurent alone, but a triangular emotional conflict impacting student safety, emotional stability, and academic order. This is a matter of institutional concern."
The words hit like a verdict.
Jasmine felt her chest tightening again. Her vision blurred slightly at the edges.
Nathalie leaned forward. "With all due respect, this is not a disciplinary issue. This is a pastoral one. Jasmine is vulnerable. She needs support, not interrogation."
"Support must be structured," the counselor replied. "And boundaries must be reinforced."
Lisa muttered under her breath, "She doesn't need boundaries smothering her. She needs breathing room."
Nathalie shot her a sharp look. "Lisa, let me handle this."
But Lisa shook her head. "No. I'm done pretending this is normal. Jasmine is scared because you all treat her emotions like evidence."
The legal advisor frowned. "We are trying to protect her."
"Then listen to her," Lisa snapped.
"Enough," Madame Harvey said firmly. "Miss Lisa, you will calm yourself."
Lisa bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, but she forced herself to sit back.
Jasmine was shaking.
She whispered, "Please… stop. I can't handle more fighting."
The counselor noticed her distress immediately. "Let's pause."
But Madame Harvey gestured to continue. "We need to finish this section."
Nathalie's eyes flashed with anger. "Madame Harvey, Jasmine is on the verge of panic. You can see that."
"We must proceed," Harvey insisted. "We have procedures."
Jasmine's breathing was becoming ragged. Her pulse was loud in her ears.
Lisa reached for her hand. "Jasmine, look at me. Focus on me."
But Jasmine couldn't. The room was closing in. Their voices were blurring. Everything felt too bright, too heavy.
Her voice cracked. "I need air."
Nobody moved.
Madame Harvey continued with her next question as if reading from a script. "Miss Jasmine, do you understand the consequences of emotional entanglement with a teacher?"
That was the moment Jasmine broke.
She stood abruptly, her chair screeching against the floor. "Stop! Please! I can't breathe!"
Chaos erupted.
The counselor stood. "She needs a break. Now."
But Jasmine was already backing away, her hands on her head, her breathing sharp and panicked. Lisa rushed to steady her. Nathalie stood as well, her expression torn between fear and fury.
Jasmine's voice cracked again. "I didn't do anything wrong! I'm not hurting anyone! Why does this feel like punishment?"
Her words pierced the room.
For the first time, the board members looked shaken.
Madame Harvey rose. "Miss Jasmine, sit down. You are safe. We are not punishing you."
Lisa glared. "You're interrogating her like a criminal!"
Nathalie placed a hand on Jasmine's shoulder, grounding her. "Jasmine. I'm here. Look at me."
Jasmine's breathing began to slow — barely.
The counselor stepped forward. "This meeting is adjourned for the moment. We will reconvene after Jasmine is stable."
Madame Harvey hesitated, clearly frustrated, but finally nodded. "Very well. Fifteen-minute recess."
The secretary opened the door.
Lisa guided Jasmine outside, supporting most of her weight. Nathalie followed, face pale with simmering anger.
Once they exited the room, the hallway felt mercifully wide and quiet.
Jasmine's body was shaking uncontrollably.
Lisa whispered to her, "You're okay. You're okay. I'm here."
Nathalie touched her arm gently. "I'm sorry you had to endure that. It wasn't right."
Jasmine nodded weakly, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Behind them, the closed doors of the boardroom stood tall and silent — waiting to swallow them again.
But something had shifted.
The board hadn't broken Jasmine.
They had exposed their own blindness.
And the next round would not unfold the same way.