I Stopped Saving My Students

After my message landed in the group chat, Brooke Hayes went quiet.

I leaned back in my chair and shut my eyes.

In my first life, graduation had been less than three months out. Most of the seniors I advised still had no placement, and without verified practicum hours they couldn't earn the credit, which meant they couldn't graduate.

That was why I'd asked my father, Warren Morgan, to take them on at Morgan Components. Two months on the floor and he'd certify every one of them.

Once Dad heard they were my students, he treated it like a personal debt. He was worried the kids wouldn't settle in, so I had a whole floor of company housing wallpapered and fitted with new bunks. Every week he paid out of his own pocket to upgrade their meals.

They got their degrees on schedule. Then they listened to Brooke, signed a joint complaint, and took my family apart.

Now that I had the year to live over, they could do whatever they liked. I wasn't going to manage them anymore.

Whether Brooke's miracle internship actually got them across the stage was no longer any business of mine.

I was still thinking it through when the office door banged open.

"Ms. Morgan!"

Brooke marched in with twenty-odd students behind her. She slapped her phone down on my desk. The screen showed the last message I'd sent the cohort.

"What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

I didn't look at the phone. I looked at the group.

Rachel Turner, our student rep on the program committee, stood at Brooke's shoulder. Dylan Shaw was on her other side.

In my first life, Rachel had claimed my father pressured her into drinking with his buyers. Dylan had claimed I wouldn't stop sending him private messages.

Every face behind them had turned up on the complaint that ended my career.

I pushed the phone back across the desk. "What part isn't clear?"

She gave a short, cold laugh. "Don't act like you weren't threatening us."

She leaned over my desk and planted both hands on it.

"You're furious that the placement I found is better than your dad's factory. If we don't work for him, the two of you can't collect the state hiring credits for new grads."

Her voice sharpened.

"So now you're hinting that anyone who turns your placement down doesn't graduate. That's it, isn't it?"

Rachel and Dylan had the others going within seconds.

"Right! The state pays companies thousands a head for every new grad they hire."

"There's twenty-seven of us. Her father would clear a hundred grand off this."

"I kept wondering why Ms. Morgan was being so generous. Now we know."

"If Brooke hadn't caught it, we'd have worked ourselves half to death and thanked them for the privilege."

The other faculty in the shared office looked up from their desks. Diane Reed, who sat beside me, started to say something, but I stopped her with a small shake of my head.

Then I smiled at Brooke.

"I was trying to solve the internship problem for all of you. But now that I've heard you out, I agree — sending you to my father's plant wasn't well thought through."