The Vice Principal's Callousness

I couldn't believe Brian, a vice principal, treated human life like it meant nothing. How could he say the boy was born sick?! Ethan's mother had reminded us repeatedly to take good care of him and had even organized his medications carefully. If I hadn't given Ethan that emergency dose in time, the thought of what would happen made my scalp crawl.

In my previous life, I had left Yvonne behind to fetch the parents; when I came back, I found Ethan lifeless, with pills scattered all over the floor. At the hospital, they discovered several drugs had interacted badly and accelerated Ethan's death.

Brian said nearly the same indifferent thing. "It's his fault he was born sick."

When I didn't move, he forced my hand and dragged me in front of Yvonne. "Apologize. My patience has limits. You're a senior teacher and you can't even handle a little situation like this—maybe you've been sitting in that high seat for too long."

Seeing Brian defend her, Yvonne flung herself into his arms, all hurt and trembling. His heart ached for her, and he turned to me with a venomous glare, slapping my right shoulder. The crisp crack of bone made him freeze for a beat.

I had gone numb. He knew my right shoulder was injured—he knew it had been hurt saving him five years ago—and yet now he'd laid into a newly arrived teacher in defense of his fiancee.

I clutched my shoulder, grabbed the thermos from the next table, and smashed it down on his head. Blood spurted instantly; he went limp to the floor. Yvonne screamed and clamped her hands over his head. "Doctor! Doctor!"

I hauled Brian up by his collar. "Am I Yvonne's mother? Look out for her? Do you know she's older than me? Those fine lines on her face aren't something a thick layer of foundation can hide. So be it that she acts like a young adult—she plays dumb! Please. She's an adult, not a kid.

"How is someone like that qualified to be a teacher?! Can't do this, can't do that—you might as well quit and go farm already! You'd better pray Ethan's going to be okay, because if he's not, you'll be the one doing time, you pretentious bitch."

A crowd had gathered, and many mistook the scene for a jealous wife tearing into a mistress; they pointed and whispered at Yvonne. She looked ghastly, swaying as if she might break at any second.

Just then, a voice rang out.

"Make way! Everyone, make way!"

Even just hearing her made my whole body tremble.

It was Ethan's mother. In my last life, she had, in her grief, killed me with a kitchen knife—dismembering my body afterward. I had expected my fiance to defend me, but instead, he comforted Ethan's mother and said I had it coming.

Seeing her again, my blood boiled with rage and a single, loud hunger for revenge.

Ethan's mother, panting, stepped up to Brian with worry in her voice. "Mr. Chapman, what's going on? I remind my son to take his medicine every day—how could he have an episode out of nowhere?"

Brian cleared his throat, glanced at me as if begging me to stay quiet, and spoke seriously to Ethan's mother. "This was Miss Solano's fault. Ethan had a sudden heart attack; he could have received treatment faster if not for Miss Solano wasting time. He's still not out of the operating room."

I slammed my fist into the wall. The thud made people stop and stare. "Are you saying my crime was giving Ethan emergency medicine to save his life? Or that I should have followed Yvonne and shoved all the pills into him like some fool trying anything? People only get one life—I won't treat it like play pretend. Not like you do."

Ethan's mother snapped from hysteria to cold clarity. "You're saying a teacher gave my child medicine without knowing? My child is allergic to many drugs—he can't take them. Who would be so clueless? Whoever did this will pay."

Yvonne cowered behind Brian, but I dragged her out by the arm, my face hard. "You nearly killed that child—shouldn't you offer the parents an explanation? Hiding behind someone like a coward won't do. Are you even fit to be a teacher? If I were Brian, I'd have fired you a long time ago."

Ethan's mother flung her bag at Yvonne and began hitting and kicking her. Brian hurriedly pulled Yvonne into his arms, his face ashen. "The school isn't yours. Don't tell me how to do my job—do your duty."

The Parents' Fury

We had planned to wait until Ethan's surgery was over before leaving, but his mother shoved us out. No sooner had we reached the hospital gates than a pack of reporters swarmed toward us with cameras and microphones. Brian immediately yanked off his jacket and covered Yvonne's head.

"You're teachers who responded quickly with first aid, right? Otherwise, the child would have died—we'd like to interview your school about teacher training as an example."

Hearing that it was an interview, Yvonne instantly revealed her face and announced to the cameras, proud and confident, "You've got the wrong person—I'm the teacher who gave the child the medicine and saved him."

All the lenses trained on her as she spoke like a model of composure. "As teachers, we must spot a child's abnormal signs right away and perform the appropriate emergency aid…"

I slipped out of the crowd; I couldn't stand to listen to her fabricated lies. The most important thing now was to get back to school and calm the students.

The moment I stepped through the school gate, a colleague came running over with worry. "Jasmine, the principal asked to see you."

I blinked. The principal had already retired. Why would he suddenly be at school?

My colleague looked embarrassed and lowered their voice. "A number of parents are in the principal's office complaining. They want you to explain things."

I felt bewildered. Why would parents come to complain about me?

I had just pushed the office door open when someone slapped me hard across the face; my head slammed into the wall behind me. The principal bowed to the parents with a face full of wrinkles and fury, then pulled me forward. "Jasmine, compose your words and give the parents an explanation—or resign. Don't be a teacher anymore."

Before I could react, those fervent parents started echoing his words.

"People like you shouldn't be teachers. My son locks himself in his room and won't answer anyone. When we took him to the doctor, he finally revealed that the teacher had hit him."

"My daughter was covered in bruises yesterday. Her head needed stitches just now."

The principal sighed helplessly. "I never thought you'd do this."

I protested. I had never done any of the things they accused me of, and as a senior teacher, I would never break the law.

The principal slammed his fist on the desk, and the office fell into a hush. "The other teachers were sent to a state meeting yesterday. Only you and Yvonne were at school. Yvonne is gentle, well-mannered, and studious—she doesn't look like the sort of person who would do this. You must have beaten the students and threatened them into silence to cover up that you killed Ethan. Yvonne's health is poor enough already; stop slandering her."

He nailed me to his words as if they were facts, and the parents surged forward, tearing at my clothes and pulling my hair. Before he left, the principal shut the door and stared at me amid the chaos. "Let them vent. Once they've had their say, it won't be taken further up."

My head had been struck so hard that I blacked out. In a haze, I felt someone kicking me repeatedly.

I didn't know how long I had been out, but cold water splashed over me and woke me. Brian stood before me, holding Yvonne by the arm. "Don't think playing dead will fix anything. Resign quickly—don't force me to make things ugly."

Yvonne rushed forward and clutched my head. "Brian, how can you treat Jasmine like this? She's your fiancee. Besides, this has to be some misunderstanding—that's why the parents are demanding Jasmine resign. We'll clear it up."

I pressed my head into her shoulder; the scab on my forehead split open and bled freely, soaking her clothes. She looked disgusted but didn't push me away until Brian pulled her back into his arms.

"Don't push it," I snapped. "Have you forgotten how you got where you are, Brian Chapman? Clearly, you've enjoyed life far too long. Am I your fiancee or is she? Are your loyalties upside down?"

A flicker of guilt crossed Brian's face, but he quickly straightened as if righteous. "You did something wrong, so you must face the consequences. Even as your fiance, I won't cover for you. Parents have complained that you gave students physical punishments; how could I protect you? Be sensible, Jasmine, and stop making trouble."

Physical punishments? On the students? I treated each child like my own. He lied so brazenly through his teeth to protect Yvonne.

Brian shoved his phone at me—the screen filled with photos parents had sent showing injuries on their children's bodies. "Concrete evidence. What else do you have to say?"

I burst into the classroom and interrupted the lesson. Kneeling beside the quiet, withdrawn girl in the corner, I softened my voice. "Annie, I need your help. Some bad people are trying to hurt me. If you can give me the camera on your chest, the bad people will be defeated."

Annie obediently unfastened the small camera on her chest and handed it to me, her hand in mine. "Miss Solano, you must beat the bad guys."