Setting Fire to Her Lies

Gwen and I walked toward the academy's art gallery. From a distance, we saw Willow standing in front of a painting, surrounded by Jess and several lecturers from other departments.

Willow was passionately explaining her creative concept. "Here, I used the dot-stippling technique to portray the moment when fragmented light and shadow reassemble, symbolizing hope in the midst of despair..."

That was exactly what I had written in my own artist's statement.

The lecturers surrounding her all nodded in agreement, looking at her with admiration.

"Willow is not only talented but also hardworking."

"Indeed. The depth of thought in this painting surpasses many of her peers."

My arrival disrupted this harmonious scene. Everyone's eyes fell on me, and murmurs started to rise.

"How does she have the nerve to show up?"

"Look at her eyes. There isn't a hint of remorse."

When Willow saw me, she immediately stopped her explanation. An expression of surprise tinged with sadness formed on her face.

"Oh, you're here, Cassidy," she said.

As she stepped forward, her eyes reddened in an instant. "I know you're very talented and always hoped to have a breakthrough with your graduation work, but you can't just plagiarize! If you had told me earlier, I could've helped you."

Her words were full of sincerity, casting herself as a kind and forgiving victim who had been betrayed.

Jess looked at me with eyes full of disappointment. "Cassidy, you may be naturally gifted, but that doesn't mean you can slack off and achieve what you want using despicable methods. Have you let all the praise go to your head?

"I remember you once said your dream was to hold a solo exhibition. Is this how you plan to do it? By displaying a plagiarized piece?"

She gave me a long, hard look and said disapprovingly, "So many geniuses waste their potential by slacking off later in life. Do you really want to become a wasted potential?"

I looked at Willow. She was staring back at me triumphantly, and gone was that pitiful act from earlier.

Nevertheless, I didn't respond to Jess or Willow. In my past life, I would've been so furious that I'd have argued with them and even broken down in hysterics.

But now, I wouldn't foolishly try to defend myself again. Gwen tried to speak up for me, but I stopped her by shaking my head at her.

We left the art gallery. Gwen was very anxious on my behalf. I told her I was fine and sent her home first.

Back at the studio, I started to rethink the entire situation. Some suspicions started to form in my mind. I locked all the doors and windows in the studio. I pulled shut the heaviest blackout curtains and even found a roll of packing tape to seal every crack around the windows and doors.

Then, I turned to the easel and began to paint.

I made quick work of my painting. Two hours later, my painting was done. I didn't leave the studio to make sure that Willow couldn't sneak in to take photos and steal from me again.

Early the next morning, I looked at my phone.

At 4:00 am, Willow had updated her social media. It was an identical sketch to mine! The core elements and use of technique were completely in my style.

The caption read, "I pulled an all-nighter to paint this. I feel like I'm about to drop dead. Thank goodness I'm satisfied with the result. Good night, world."

Below were likes and comments of praise.

"You've worked so hard, Willow!"

"Even geniuses have to hustle!"

I frowned. If no one had snuck into the studio, then how did she pull it off? Could a surveillance camera be installed in my studio?