Silvia stood there, frozen, her heart racing. She couldn't believe what was happening. Waksi was on the grass, clutching his throat, his face turning an alarming shade of blue. Foam began to form at the corners of his mouth, and she felt like she was losing control of everything. What had gone wrong? What had she done?
Silvia had only offered him the drink she brought from the classroom. It wasn't supposed to hurt Waksi. But now, seeing him in agony, she wondered if she had made a huge mistake. The drink—could something have been wrong with it? But no, she didn't even know what was happening. He had grabbed it from her, gulped it down, and then all this had happened.
"Move aside! What happened?" a voice shouted, cutting through the panic in her mind.
Dhean. He sprinted over, his face pale with concern. He knelt down next to Waksi, his eyes scanning his body, his hands hovering in the air as if unsure what to do.
"Shit, what's going on?" Dhean muttered, his voice filled with panic. His gaze shot up to her. "What happened? Did you do something to him?"
Silvia could barely breathe. "I didn't! I just, I brought him a drink. I thought he was thirsty," she said, her voice shaking. Her mind raced with the thought that something, somewhere, had gone terribly wrong. But how could she have known? She wasn't a doctor.
Before she could say more, the campus security guards appeared, followed by a couple of medical staff. They rushed to Waksi's side, immediately trying to stabilize him. She stepped back, feeling like she was in a daze. Her legs felt weak, and she had to brace herself against a nearby pillar to stay standing.
"Stay back, miss," one of the security guards told her gently but firmly. "We need to take him to the medical room."
She nodded numbly, unable to form a coherent thought. Her mind was still on the terrible image of Waksi's struggle, his body shaking, and the face twisted in pain.
A moment later, she stood awkwardly outside the medical room. This place was sterile and quiet, filled with the faint hum of machinery. Waksi lay unconscious on the bed, an IV drip attached to his arm. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and the doctors were still monitoring him. The tension in the air was palpable. She stood in the corner, feeling completely out of place.
She had no idea what to do or how to make sense of what had happened. Was it her fault? What if it was something in the drink? But she had no way of knowing, had she?
Just as her thoughts began to spiral, the door creaked open, and a man stepped inside. His presence filled the room immediately, and her eyes snapped at him. He was tall, with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a sharp suit. His face was hard, his features sharp and commanding. There was no mistaking who he was. This was Waksi's father.
"Excuse me," his voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of authority to it. "Are you the one who brought my son here?"
Silvia swallowed, suddenly feeling smaller under his gaze. "I was, but I just, he was sick, and I didn't know what was happening. I gave him a drink, but somehow everything went wrong."
His expression didn't change, but she could feel the weight of his eyes on her, analyzing every word she said.
"You gave him a drink?" he repeated, his voice sharp. "And what was in it?"
She blinked, surprised by the question. "It was just a cold drink, nothing special. I didn't think anything was wrong with it."
"Did you know he's allergic to nuts?" he asked, his voice suddenly colder, more pointed.
She froze. "Nuts?" The word didn't even register in her brain at first. "What are you talking about?"
He let out a sharp breath, as if he couldn't believe what she had just said. "My son has a severe nut allergy. His throat closes up if he consumes even a trace of them." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he continued. "And you didn't know?"
Her mouth went dry. She had no idea. Silvia never thought of checking. Her mind raced back to the drink. She remembered that it had been a brown-colored bottle, but she didn't think about checking the ingredients. She hadn't even thought about allergies. And now, because of her ignorance, Waksi was in the medical room, fighting for his life.
"Silvia!" Jessey's voice called, sugary-sweet, but there was something else underneath. Something cold.
Silvia turned around to face her, and the sharpness in Jessey's expression made her stomach churn. Jessey's two friends were standing behind her, eyes darting between her and Jessey with a mixture of curiosity and malicious amusement.
"Well, well, well. I just had to come and check on the drama unfolding. You're quite the troublemaker, aren't you?" Jessey said with a mocking grin.
Silvia raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Waksi's in the medical room, and all you can think about is drama?"
"Oh, don't act innocent, Silvia. We all saw what happened," Jessey said, her voice dropping to a mockingly serious tone. "You brought him a drink, didn't you? And now he's in there, struggling to breathe. I wonder how that happened?"
She could feel her blood start to boil. "What are you implying? You are the one who asked me to give that drink to Waksi. You are the one who should be blamed here," she said, trying to control the tremble in her voice.
"Oh me? After all the evidence pointed at you, and now you accuse me? What a terrible person you are, Silvia," Jessey said, turning to Waksi's father. "Sir, you are Waksi's father, and I witnessed Silvia here—she gave Waksi a drink, and now he's trying to blame me. We all saw it. I think she tried to poison him."
The words felt like a ton of bricks hitting her. Jessey's voice was so convincing, her tone so calculated. And in that moment, she realized—Jesse had already won this game. She was already spinning a story, and all she could do was stand there and watch it unfold.
Nicole's face hardened, his eyes turning toward her with deep suspicion. He looked at Silvia as if searching for guilt, and her stomach dropped.
Before she could say anything, the door opened again, and a nurse stepped inside.
"Mister Nicole, your son's condition has stabilized," the nurse said quickly. "He's still unconscious, but we believe he's out of immediate danger."
Nicole didn't seem to relax at all. His gaze never left her. "Get him out of here," he muttered.
A few hours later, she stood outside the medical room, her legs like jelly, her mind still in turmoil. The doctors had done all they could for Waksi, but his father had insisted on taking him home to rest. As Silvia watched Nicole carry his son out of the room, she felt a sharp pang of guilt twist in her stomach. She had no idea about Waksi's allergy. No idea that something so small could have caused this much pain.
It wasn't long before Nicole stormed back onto the scene, his face grim. He looked at her for a long moment before speaking in a low, cold voice.
"Silvia, this whole incident is your fault. If you had paid attention, if you had known about Waksi's allergy, none of this would have happened. But you didn't, did you?" His voice rose with each word, his anger palpable.
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he turned to leave, his eyes flicking at his son's still unconscious form.
She wanted to speak, to explain, but her words caught in her throat. There was no point.
The news of her poisoning Waksi on campus reached her father's ears. Sure enough, as soon as she entered the front door, she was immediately yelled at by him.
"Silvia, what were you thinking?" he snapped.
She flinched at the sharpness in his voice.
"I didn't do anything wrong, Dad," she tried to explain, but her words felt so weak, so futile. How could she convince him when everything was already twisted so far out of shape?
"Didn't do anything wrong? Is that what you're going to tell me after what happened today? Do you think I don't know what happened? Do you think I didn't hear about how you poisoned Waksi? You poisoned your own boyfriend, Silvia! Do you understand how serious this is?"
Her breath caught in her throat. Poisoned him? The word echoed in her ears like a thunderclap. How could he believe that? How could he think that she would ever do something like that?
"Dad, I swear, I didn't do anything! I just brought him a drink. I didn't know about his allergy! I didn't mean to."
"You didn't know about his allergy? You didn't think to ask?" His voice was harsh now, the anger rising in his chest like a storm. "What kind of daughter am I raising if you can't even be responsible for something as simple as that? Do you know this could end the agreement we made? And that means the end for my company!"
She stood frozen, unable to find the right words. The truth felt stuck in her throat, suffocated by his fury. How could she explain to him that she never intended any of this? How could she make him understand that it wasn't her fault?
"You should have thought about all of this before you did something so reckless," he continued, his voice growing colder with every word. "I don't care if it was an accident. This is unacceptable, Silvia. I won't stand for it."
"But Dad, I swear I didn't do anything on purpose! You have to believe me!" she pleaded, her voice cracking. But her father wasn't listening. His mind was made up, and nothing she said would change it.
"You're going to learn what happens when you make mistakes like this," he said, his eyes narrowing in anger. "I've been too lenient with you, but not anymore. You're grounded, Silvia. For the entire night. No food, no phone, no talking. You stay in this room until morning."
Her stomach dropped. "What? But, Dad!"
"No buts, Silvia! You're locked in your room for the rest of the night. You'll stay there, without a word, without a complaint. You'll think about what you've done."
Her heart sank. This wasn't just a punishment. This was an emotional blow. Her father, the one person she always turned to, was looking at her as if she were a criminal. As if she had done something unforgivable. Her own father thought she was guilty of poisoning someone she barely knew.
With her heart heavy, she took a slow step back, her eyes cast down to the floor, feeling the weight of her father's disappointment pressing down on her. This wasn't just about the punishment; it was the sting of not being believed, of being accused of something she didn't do.
"Go. Now," her father commanded.
Silvia nodded silently and turned toward the stairs, her feet dragging as if each step took her further away from the person she used to be. As she ascended the staircase, she couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. She reached her room, closed the door behind her, and sank onto the bed, her body shaking.
Silvia lay there, paralyzed, staring at the door as it shut behind him. She had no idea what to feel anymore. Guilt. Anger. Fear. Everything blended together. All she could do now was sit in the dark, thinking about Waksi, about his father's words, and wondering if her life could ever go back to normal.
Was there something she could do to change the situation? With her brain, she should be able to think of something. There was no point in crying over and over again. She must do something. She must take revenge on the person who put her in this situation. And that person was Jessey.