The Fault in the Constant
[Jay's POV]
The world inside Room 413 was quiet, but it was a heavy, artificial quiet. I was propped up against the pillows, the duvet pulled over my legs, while the room smelled faintly of the lavender oil Mica had insisted on diffusing to "calm my nerves."
Mica was sitting at the foot of my bed, pretending to read a textbook, but I could see her eyes darting toward me every few seconds. She was guarding me, a human shield against a world that had suddenly become far too loud.
"You should eat something, Jay," Mica murmured, not looking up. "Keifer will have my head if I let your blood sugar drop again."
I'm not hungry, Mica," I whispered. My voice felt thin, like a wire stretched to its breaking point. My head was still swimming—a lingering vertigo from the previous night's collapse—and every time I closed my eyes, I felt the phantom pressure of Yuri's hands on my wrists.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers trembling slightly. I just wanted to send a message to Keifer. I wanted to tell him that the dizziness was fading. I wanted him to come back so the room would feel solid again.
But before I could open our chat, a notification banner slid across the top of the screen.
[Unknown Number]: A picture is worth a thousand variables, isn't it? The Constant has shifted.
My heart thudded once, a dull, painful ache in my chest. I tapped the message.
The image downloaded in high definition. It was the university corridor—the one leading to the Engineering wing. The lighting was unmistakable. And there, in the center of the frame, was Keifer. He was standing tall, his back to the camera, but I knew the line of his shoulders better than I knew my own sketches.
And wrapped around him, her face tucked against his chest in what looked like a desperate, intimate embrace, was Kiara Chen.
The phone felt like it had turned into a block of ice in my hands. I stared at the screen, waiting for the logic to kick in. It's an angle trick. It's a staged photo. He isn't hugging her back. But the brain of a genius is a double-edged sword; it sees every detail. It saw how close they were. It saw that he hadn't pushed her away in that exact millisecond.
A single, hot tear escaped my eye and hit the glass of the screen, distorting Keifer's face.
"Jay?" Mica's voice was sharp with alarm. She moved toward me, reaching for the phone. "What is it? Did that redhead send you something? Jay, talk to me!"
I couldn't talk. If I opened my mouth, I felt like my entire soul would spill out onto the floor. I didn't show her the phone. I didn't answer. I just felt a cold, numbing void opening up where my heart used to be.
The Watson-Jay Constant is unbreakable. That's what he had said.
I swung my legs off the bed, the dizziness returning in a violent surge, but I ignored it. I grabbed my car keys from the dresser.
"Jay! Where are you going? You can't drive, you're still sick!" Mica was on her feet, trying to block the door, but I moved past her with a ghostly mechanical speed.
"Stay here, Mica," I said, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else. "Please."
The Flight to the Fortress
The drive to the Watson Estate was a blur. I don't remember the traffic or the turns. I only remember the image on my phone, burned into my retinas like a permanent error message.
When I pulled up to the grand gates, the security recognized my car immediately, the iron bars swinging open to welcome the "Future of the Family." The irony felt like a physical weight, crushing the air out of my lungs.
I parked haphazardly at the front entrance and stumbled out.
Mamma Serina and Pappa Keizer were in the foyer, seemingly discussing a gala invitation. They both turned, smiles lighting up their faces the moment they saw me—but those smiles died instantly when they saw my face.
"Jay? Darling, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the infirmary!" Mamma Serina rushed forward, her hands outstretched, her brow furrowed in deep maternal panic.
Jay, what happened? Where is Keifer?" Pappa Keizer's voice was booming, his CEO mask discarded for genuine fear. He reached out to stabilize me as I swayed.
I couldn't look at them. I couldn't tell them that the son they were so proud of might have just broken the only thing I had left. If I spoke, the dam would break.
"I... I need to sleep," I managed to whisper, my eyes fixed on the floor.
I didn't wait for their questions. I didn't stop for Mamma's comfort. I bolted up the grand staircase, my footsteps echoing like gunshots in the silent house. I reached my room—the Blue Suite, my sanctuary—and threw myself inside.
Click.
The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place was the loudest thing in the world. I leaned my back against the door and slid down until I was sitting on the floor, my knees pulled to my chest.
In the silence of the Watson Estate, the fortress that was supposed to protect me, I finally let out the breath I had been holding. I didn't sob. I just sat there in the dark, staring at the wall, wondering how a 100% score in engineering could leave me with absolutely zero answers.