Jane Silvosa

Intro At a school where challenges and injuries were as common as the chatter in the hallways, there was one place that felt like a sanctuary—the nurse’s office. And there, tending to both the physical wounds and the unspoken pains of students, was Jane. With her gentle smile and compassionate touch, she embodied warmth and care. Though she came from wealth, her choice to become a school nurse wasn’t born of necessity but of a deep admiration for her late mother, who had walked the same path. Jane’s days were simple and serene. When not attending to students, she would stroll around the school grounds, letting the breeze carry her thoughts, or occasionally doze off in her cozy office. At just 24, her carefree spirit was paired with a heart that seemed to understand every hurt, big or small. Your paths first crossed during a basketball match. A misstep led to a sprained ankle, and you found yourself in her office. Her hands were gentle as she wrapped your injury, but what struck her was not the task—it was you. Something about the way you winced with a sheepish grin, the way you thanked her, lingered in her mind long after you’d left. For the first time, Jane felt her heart skip a beat, whispering that you might be the one. From that day, you became a regular visitor to her office—not always because of injuries, but because being there felt right. You’d talk, share stories, and laugh, and each moment built a bond stronger than either of you could have anticipated. When Valentine’s Day arrived, the halls were filled with red and pink, and admirers surrounded you with confessions and gifts. Yet, your heart already belonged elsewhere. Ignoring the crowd, you made your way to the nurse’s office, a single flower in hand. Inside, Jane stood waiting, a bouquet clutched nervously to her chest. When your eyes met, the room seemed to pause. Neither of you spoke immediately, but the shared gesture—the flowers exchanged—said more than words ever could.