Rejoice

---

The night air outside Studio A carried the scent of wet cotton and paint — remnants of a late-night fabric dye session. Rejoice paced the hallway slowly, her phone clutched tightly. Sonia's warning still echoed in her mind. Elizabeth was planning something. And Rejoice had no intention of being caught unprepared.

Inside the fabric vault, dimly lit by motion sensors and tight with security, hundreds of portfolios and sample pieces were stored in labeled drawers. No one except staff and top students were allowed in after hours. Rejoice's was in drawer 4B. If Elizabeth wanted to destroy it, she had to act soon.

Rejoice slipped into the shadows by the supply room. She didn't need to confront Elizabeth directly — not yet. She just needed to be ready.

Back at the dorm, Sonia was already gathering intel. Faith, scared and trembling, had confessed most of it.

"She said she only agreed because Crystal promised to help her boost her scores," Sonia told Rejoice. "But she didn't know Elizabeth wanted to swap out designs in your portfolio and leave fake ones behind — badly drawn ones."

Rejoice's chest tightened. "She's trying to sabotage my final review."

Sonia nodded. "She thinks if you fail this, the judges will dismiss everything else."

Rejoice sat on her bed, eyes narrowing. "Then we stop her."

---

The next morning

Rejoice didn't confront Elizabeth directly. Instead, she walked into Studio A early, carrying a replica of her real portfolio. Identical on the outside, but filled with decoy designs and sketches from her very first term — nothing threatening.

She placed it gently in drawer 4B. Then she handed the real one to Mrs. Happiness, who agreed to keep it locked in her private cabinet until review day.

"Wise move," Mrs. Happiness said softly. "You've grown sharper."

"It's Salem," Rejoice replied. "It sharpens us all."

---

Later that day

Zion spotted Rejoice in the print lab, layering textile swatches into her sketchbook.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Rejoice looked up, surprised. "Yeah. Just… tired."

Zion sat beside her. "I heard about Elizabeth. Faith told Malik, who told me."

Rejoice shut the book. "Of course she did."

"You don't have to handle everything alone, you know."

Rejoice hesitated. Then: "That's how I survive."

He nodded slowly. "But surviving isn't the same as living."

She gave him a long look — one he didn't flinch from.

---

Meanwhile, in the north wing of the studio

Elizabeth, Grace, and Crystal met behind the wool storage shelf. Faith was absent, her conscience finally louder than her fear.

"I don't care what they think," Elizabeth snapped. "She tricked the judges. All soft-spoken and humble. But she's calculating."

Crystal glanced nervously toward the door. "Are you sure this is the right way?"

"I've been in her shadow since midterms," Elizabeth hissed. "No more. If she wants war, I'll give her fire."

Grace's eyes darkened. "She's stronger than you think."

Elizabeth smirked. "And I'm smarter than she knows."

---

That evening

The entire class gathered in the central gallery for the mentor panel. Each mentor — Miss Edna, Mr. Ibukun, Mrs. Happiness, and visiting lecturer Mr. Caleb from the South London Design School — would give feedback and assign final project themes for the last leg of the term.

Rejoice sat between Daphne and Sonia, nerves buzzing beneath her skin. Elizabeth sat two rows behind. Zion leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, watching the whole room.

Miss Edna spoke first. "You've each come far. But remember: excellence isn't just in your hands. It's in your mind. Your attitude. Your loyalty."

Mr. Caleb chimed in. "We'll be selecting three students for international internships. Your final designs must tell a story. About you. About this place. About resilience."

Rejoice's heart skipped. An international internship? It was bigger than she imagined.

The murmurs afterward spread like electricity through the crowd. Everyone wanted it. Everyone would fight for it.

---

That night, in the dorm

Sonia, Rejoice, and Daphne gathered quietly around a kettle of boiling tea. The day had been long. Their emotions were raw.

"Do you think you'll get one of the internships?" Daphne asked.

Rejoice shrugged. "If I do, it'll be because I didn't let Elizabeth break me."

Sonia laughed. "She's the villain in our Salem saga."

Rejoice smiled. "Every story needs one."

---

Meanwhile, Elizabeth crept toward the fabric vault after midnight.

The hall was silent.

The passcode she'd bribed from an assistant last week still worked. She slid the door open.

Drawer 4B.

She reached for it — and froze.

Inside wasn't Rejoice's work.

It was rough sketches. Ugly ones. Sloppy. First-year level. Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"No… she tricked me?"

Behind her, the hallway light flicked on.

Mrs. Happiness stepped into view. "You disappoint me."

Elizabeth turned pale.

"I'm not here to report you," Mrs. Happiness said, voice low. "But understand this: the only thing worse than failure is cheating and still losing."

Elizabeth backed away slowly, then turned and ran.

---

The next morning, Salem buzzed with whispers.

Word had spread — no one knew how.

Elizabeth arrived late, face guarded. Crystal and Grace avoided her. Faith wouldn't meet her eyes. And Zion didn't speak to her at all.

Rejoice stood by her mannequin, attaching the final embroidered strip to her bodice. She felt lighter. Not victorious — just… free.

Sonia approached, grinning. "Justice is best served with embroidery."

They laughed.

But before the morning passed, Mrs. Happiness made an announcement.

"Final project themes are assigned individually. Yours is 'The Self in Fragments.' Due in six days. Panel reviews will determine internship placements. Begin."

---

Later that day, Rejoice sat alone in the library.

She sketched lines that didn't quite connect. Ideas that felt raw. 'The Self in Fragments' — what did it mean?

Broken identity? Pieced-together strength? Wounds as art?

Zion arrived quietly and sat across from her. He didn't speak for a while.

Finally: "You've changed."

Rejoice looked up. "Everyone changes."

"Not like this. You've become… sure of yourself."

"I had to."

Zion watched her for a moment. "I'd like to see what that sure version of you might say — to me. Without Elizabeth around."

She smiled. "Then let's finish this term. No distractions. No sabotage. Just truth."

He nodded. "Deal."

---

That night, Rejoice stood by the window again, a quiet habit now.

Sonia joined her. "You ready for the final round?"

Rejoice turned, gaze steady. "I'm not here to play it safe anymore."

---