Chapter 18: Chapter 18:Threads of fire
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The morning after the fabric review buzzed with low murmurs and stolen glances. Rejoice's dress still stood on its mannequin by the window of Studio A, the folds of the linen-polyester blend catching the soft light like brushed metal. Some students glanced at it with awe. Others, like Elizabeth, Grace, and Crystal, looked away as if scorched by its defiance.
Rejoice walked into the studio calmly, her sketchbook in hand. But inside, she burned. Not from pride — no, this wasn't a victory yet. She knew better. Salem had a way of testing strength not just with fabric and thread, but with silence, betrayal, and pressure that cut deeper than scissors ever could.
Sonia met her at her desk, eyes sparkling. "You're trending on our class group chat," she whispered.
Rejoice blinked. "What?"
"Someone — I think Malik — posted a close-up of your dress. There's a thread going: 'Is Rejoice the next Salem prodigy?'"
Rejoice flushed. "Please tell me you didn't comment."
"I did," Sonia said with a wink. "I said, 'She's just getting started.'"
As the students settled in, a loud knock echoed across the studio. Miss Edna entered with her clipboard, heels tapping a rhythm of command. Beside her stood Mrs. Happiness, calm as always, her chin slightly raised, a quiet authority in her aura.
But then came the twist.
Behind them walked in a tall, angular woman in a blood-red jumpsuit and narrow heels. She wore a braided turban and gold-rimmed glasses. Her face was expressionless.
Whispers rippled through the room.
"That's Adira Costelle," Malik muttered to Zion. "She's a judge on Designers' Edge and owns the luxury label 'Mon Tissu Sauvage.'"
"Why is she here?" Zion whispered back.
As if answering, Miss Edna spoke.
"This week's final assessment will not be graded by me alone. You will be working in design pairs for a team presentation, judged by a guest expert — Miss Adira Costelle."
Adira stepped forward. "You have two days. Your brief is 'Unapologetic Femininity.' Use anything in the lab. Sketch, drape, sew, and present as a team. One lead designer, one assistant. Show us innovation. Confidence. Intent."
She turned, her gaze grazing Rejoice for half a second longer than the others. Then she walked out without another word.
Pairs were announced. Malik and Zion again. Sonia was partnered with Tilda. Rejoice waited, holding her breath.
"You'll work with Daphne," Miss Edna said at last.
Rejoice exhaled. Good. Daphne was practical, sharp, and honest.
Then Elizabeth's name was called.
"You'll be paired with… Faith."
Elizabeth's smile faltered. Crystal and Grace exchanged worried looks.
As the room broke into buzzed activity, Mrs. Happiness approached Rejoice's desk.
"Pressure's coming," she said softly. "And not just from the competition. Adira is known for breaking egos. Don't let her crack yours."
Rejoice nodded. "I won't."
Elsewhere, in the hallway
Elizabeth slammed her sketchpad shut, her hands shaking. "Faith?" she hissed under her breath.
Crystal leaned in. "We'll help you from the sidelines. But this… it's rigged."
"No," Elizabeth whispered. "It's a test. They want to see if I'll crumble."
She glanced toward Zion, who was deep in conversation with Malik, then back at Rejoice.
"I won't crumble. I'll win. And when I do, he'll see who the real designer is."
In the library that evening
Rejoice, Sonia, Zion, Malik, Daphne, Tilda and the rest of their circle regrouped, spreading out sketches and fabric samples on a long wooden table.
Tilda snorted. "Unapologetic femininity? Salem really loves its drama."
"Wait till Adira starts ripping designs apart," Daphne said. "She once made a finalist cry on national TV."
Rejoice pulled out a piece of chiffon and laid it next to her structured cotton sample. "I want softness and strength in one look. A balance. Like a woman who's been through storms but still walks tall."
Zion looked at her, then quietly handed her his sketchpad. A jacket design — boxy shoulders, cinched waist, asymmetric ruffle detail.
"This was my idea for the coat. Think it could layer over yours?"
Their eyes met for a moment too long. Elizabeth, standing at the far end of the library, noticed.
Sonia saw her too. "You think she'll give up?" she asked quietly.
Rejoice didn't look away from Zion. "Not a chance."
The next day in Studio A
The energy in the room was frantic. Sewing machines whirred nonstop. Students moved like dancers in chaos, rolling fabric, measuring seams, pinning darts. But in the middle of it all, Rejoice stood grounded, her hands steady.
Mrs. Happiness watched her from the corner, arms folded, nodding as she moved.
"Good posture. Clean lines. Purpose in every dart," she whispered to Miss Edna.
"You've been mentoring her closely," Miss Edna said. "Why?"
Mrs. Happiness hesitated. "Because she reminds me of someone I once was. Before I learned to protect myself with silence."
Miss Edna nodded. "And the others?"
"Grace is dangerous when overlooked. Crystal wants attention more than art. And Elizabeth…" Her eyes darkened. "She's not competing. She's waging war."
Later, in the garden behind the studio
Zion found Rejoice sitting on the bench, pinning chiffon to her mannequin.
"Can I ask something?" he said, sitting beside her.
"Sure."
"If Elizabeth backed off… would you still see me the same?"
Rejoice froze. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… is part of your wall about her? Or is it about me?"
She looked at him, then back at her work.
"I've fought too hard to let someone define me — even you. But I won't pretend I don't notice you noticing me."
Zion smiled faintly. "Fair."
Just then, Elizabeth appeared around the corner. "Zion," she said sweetly, "can I borrow you for a moment?"
He stood, hesitating.
"Go," Rejoice said.
He left.
But Rejoice didn't miss the flicker of doubt in his eyes.
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Presentation Day
The studio had been transformed into a miniature runway room. Students took turns dressing their mannequins, adjusting lights, and lining up for critique. Adira sat on a velvet stool beside Miss Edna and Mrs. Happiness, her gold glasses reflecting the studio lights.
Team after team presented.
Grace and her partner delivered a mess of tulle and satin that Adira called "costume couture." Crystal's team was told their color palette was "desperate and confused."
Then came Rejoice and Daphne.
Their mannequin wore a soft blush dress, draped across the chest in a diagonal flow of chiffon, under a crisp matte jacket with cutaway shoulders and hand-beaded cuffs. It was feminine, fierce, and fearless.
Rejoice stepped forward. "Our piece is called Resilience. For the women who walk into rooms and never shrink. For softness that doesn't apologize, and strength that never yells to be noticed."
Adira stood.
She walked in silence around the mannequin.
Paused.
Then turned to Rejoice.
"This… is art."
Gasps rippled across the room.
Mrs. Happiness smiled.
Elizabeth bit her tongue.
That night
In the dorm room, Rejoice sat by the window again. Her phone buzzed.
It was from Zion.
> You looked fearless today. Just so you know… so did I.
She smiled, but before she could reply, Sonia burst in.
"You won't believe this — Elizabeth just asked Faith to help her sneak into the fabric vault. She wants to destroy someone's portfolio before final grades are released!"
Rejoice stood, heart pounding.
"I think I know whose."
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