Chapter 23 will show Jasmine reaching her limit—not knowing who to turn to, terrified Zariah will disappear for good if she doesn't act. So she takes a risk… and pulls Zariah out of school.
Not to party.
Not to escape.
Jasmine couldn't do it anymore.
Not another day of watching Zariah crumble in silence. Not another lunch where she picked at crackers, not another walk home where she barely said a word. It felt like watching someone drown in slow motion, arms limp, eyes open—but nobody else saw it happening.
So the next morning, Jasmine waited outside Zariah's house before school.
When the front door opened, she grabbed her hand without a word.
"We're not going today."
Zariah blinked, confused, her voice barely above a whisper. "What do you mean?"
"School. We're not going."
Zariah looked at her like she'd grown two heads. "Are you serious?"
Jasmine nodded. "You need a break. Not another test. Not more pretending. Just… air."
Zariah hesitated, but when Jasmine gently pulled her forward, she didn't resist.
They walked in silence for a while, not toward school, but out past the neighborhood, toward a quiet park where no one really went. The wind was cool, the sky gray, like it knew how heavy their hearts were.
They sat on the swings again.
Zariah clutched the chains but didn't move.
"I feel… nothing," she finally said. Her voice cracked. "I want to cry. I want to scream. But I can't even feel enough to do that."
Jasmine stared at her, tears burning the corners of her eyes. "I know," she whispered. "And that's why I brought you here."
Zariah looked down, her sleeve slipping slightly. Jasmine saw the fresh scar. Angrier. Redder. She said nothing, but her throat tightened.
"I don't want to die," Zariah said suddenly. "But I don't know how to live like this either."
That was the moment Jasmine finally cried.
Not loud. Not messy. Just silent tears that wouldn't stop.
"I don't know how to help you," she said. "But I'm not leaving you. Not now. Not ever."
They sat there for hours. Not talking. Just breathing.
At one point, Jasmine handed her a granola bar. Zariah stared at it like it was a puzzle. But she opened it. Ate piece. That was something.
That day didn't fix her. It didn't erase the pain. But it was the first time in weeks Zariah didn't want to disappear completely.
Because someone saw her.
And stayed.