My Lovely Headmaster

Chapter 38

The ICU is too white, too sterile, too much like a tomb. I'm lying in the center of a bed that seems to swallow me, connected to machines that breathe for me, that keep my heart beating, that do all the things my body has apparently decided are optional.

Vlad hasn't left my side in thirty-six hours. He looks destroyed—stubble, wrinkled clothes, eyes red from exhaustion and tears he won't let Devon see. He holds my hand like he's anchoring me to life through will alone.

"The doctors say you can hear me," he says to my unconscious form. "So I'm going to keep talking. Remember our first night? You kissed me on those stairs like the world was ending. You tasted like vodka and rage and something else—hope, maybe. Or desperation. I was so lost that night, Jasmine. I'd just nearly killed my cousin for hurting Leo, and I thought I was a monster. Then you crashed into me, all that pain and beauty, and somehow in trying to save you, you saved me."

Leo enters without knocking—even near-death doesn't grant privacy from Leo Dickenson.

"Any change?"

"No."

Leo studies me with uncharacteristic seriousness. "She looks too small. Like the bed might swallow her completely."

"She's stronger than she looks."

"I know." Leo sits in the uncomfortable visitor's chair. "That's what terrifies me. If someone this strong can be brought this low..."

"Don't."

"I'm just saying—"

"I said don't." Vlad's voice carries warning.

They sit in tense silence until Richard enters with Genesis—my friend from the diner days who Leo tracked down and flew in from California where she'd moved.

"Oh, Jas," Genesis breathes, seeing me pale and still. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

Richard checks my charts with professional efficiency, but his hands shake slightly. "Her vitals are stable. That's good. But she should be showing more response by now."

"What does that mean?" Vlad demands.

"It means..." Richard hesitates. "Sometimes when the body undergoes severe trauma, the mind retreats. She might be choosing not to wake up."

"That's ridiculous—"

"It's documented medical phenomenon," Richard continues gently. "She saved Devon, eliminated the threat. Maybe some part of her thinks her job is done."

"Her job is not done!" Vlad stands abruptly, knocking over his chair. "She hasn't married me yet. She hasn't seen Devon graduate, get married, have children of his own. She doesn't get to just... quit!"

"Vlad—" Leo starts.

"No! She doesn't get to save everyone and then leave. That's not how this works!" He's shouting at my unconscious form now. "You hear me, Jasmine? You don't get to die. I forbid it. Devon forbids it. Your mother's already threatened to kill me if you die, and frankly, she scares me more than death."

"You're making a scene," Leo observes.

"I don't give a fuck about scenes!" Vlad rounds on his brother, and suddenly they're facing off like they're teenagers again. "This is your fault anyway!"

"My fault?"

"The security, the plans—you were supposed to handle everything!"

"I handled what I could predict! I didn't know Thomas had been planning revenge for six fucking years!"

"You know everything else!"

"I'm not omniscient, David! I'm just good at reading people and situations, and right now, I'm reading that you're about to do something stupid—"

Vlad punches him.

Leo staggers back, blood flowing from his nose, but he doesn't retaliate. He just stands there, letting Vlad's rage have a target.

"Feel better?" Leo asks, wiping blood with his handkerchief.

"No." Vlad collapses back in his chair. "Christ, Leo, I'm sorry—"

"Don't be. I probably deserved it for something." Leo resets his nose with practiced ease that suggests this isn't his first broken nose. "But Vlad, destroying yourself won't bring her back."

"Then what will?"

"Maybe this," Genesis says quietly. She's pulled out her phone, scrolling through videos. "Jasmine sent me this last week. Said it was the most important thing in her life."

She hits play, and Devon's voice fills the room. It's a recording from his last recital, but not the performance—the rehearsal, where I'm sitting in the front row, crying as he plays a piece he composed just for me. The camera catches my whispered "That's my baby. My brilliant, impossible baby."

"She lives for him," Genesis continues. "So maybe he needs to remind her why she should keep living."

They bring Devon in, despite ICU rules. He's been staying with Helen, who's been trying to keep him distracted, but he looks older than six, aged by worry.

He climbs onto the bed carefully, curling against my side like he used to when he was smaller.

"Hi, Mom," he whispers. "I know you're tired. Uncle Leo says you're resting because you fought really hard to save me. But I need you to wake up now. Dad doesn't know how to do my hair right, and Uncle Leo keeps trying to teach me tax evasion, and Grandma Helen cries when she thinks I'm not looking."

He pauses, his small hand finding mine.

"Remember when you used to tell me about the night I was conceived? Not the real story—the fairy tale version. About a princess who was so sad she forgot how to smile, until a prince at a party showed her that broken things can make beautiful things? I know the real story now. Uncle Leo told me. You were drunk and sad and Dad was broken and angry, and you found each other in the dark. That's not a fairy tale, Mom. That's better. That's real."

My monitors beep slightly faster. Everyone holds their breath.

"Please wake up," Devon continues. "We're not a family without you. We're just... people who happen to share blood. You're what makes us make sense."