**Chapter 10: Ivy's Retaliation**
The hollow echo of the council chamber doors slamming behind Ivy Renard reverberated through Sapphire's bones long after the confrontation ended. Victory tasted like ash. Ivy's retreat hadn't been surrender—it was the coiled stillness before a viper's strike. Sapphire lingered at the polished oak table, fingertips tracing the grain as if reading the tension etched into the wood. Around her, council members shuffled papers, avoiding her gaze. The air hummed with unspoken alliances shifting like tectonic plates.
Amara materialized at her side, a silent shadow. "She'll come for blood now."
"I know," Sapphire murmured, watching sleet streak the arched windows like frozen tears. "Let her."
---
Dawn broke over Celestia High under a shroud of grey mist. Sapphire's arrival was met with a silence thicker than the frost on the quad. Students parted before her, whispers dying mid-sentence. Eyes followed—not with admiration, but the wary calculation of spectators at a gladiator pit.
*"Heard she threatened to expel anyone who votes against her next time…"*
*"My cousin goes to St. Magdalene's. They say Amara put a kid in a coma…"*
*"The Chens donated a new science wing last month. Coincidence she got elected?"*
The rumors slithered from locker bays and bathroom stalls, each more venomous than the last. Ivy's fingerprints were everywhere—in the averted glances, the stifled laughter, the way Lina flinched when Sapphire approached her locker.
"Subtle," Amara growled, crushing an empty soda can under her boot. "Planting seeds in a goddamn greenhouse."
Sapphire watched Ivy across the cafeteria, holding court at a table of newly devoted acolytes. Ivy's laugh—a melodic, practiced chime—cut through the din as she demonstrated a French braid on a wide-eyed sophomore. "She's not just spreading lies. She's building an *image*. The approachable alternative to my…" Sapphire gestured at her own sharp blazer, her flawless updo. "*Ice queen* persona."
Amara's knuckles whitened around her tray. "I could accidentally spill hot coffee on her."
"Tempting." Sapphire's smile didn't reach her eyes. "But she'd spin it into martyrdom. We need scalpel precision, not a sledgehammer."
---
The library became Ivy's hunting ground.
Sapphire found Lina there two days later, hunched in a carrel, fingers twisting the silver phoenix charm on her bracelet—a gift from Sapphire freshman year. Ivy leaned against the shelves nearby, feigning interest in a volume of Keats.
"You look stressed, Lina," Ivy purred, her voice honeyed poison. "Hard being Sapphire's attack dog, isn't it? Always cleaning up messes, taking the heat… while she stays pristine."
Lina didn't look up. "I know what you're doing."
"Do you?" Ivy drifted closer, tracing the spine of a book. "Or do you just know what she *lets* you know? Ask yourself—when her throne's secure again, where does that leave you? The loyal foot soldier? Or… excess baggage?"
Sapphire stepped from the shadows. "Finished?"
Ivy's composure didn't crack. She offered a saccharine smile. "Just offering perspective." She glided away, leaving the scent of jasmine and deceit.
Lina's face was pale. "She's not wrong, you know. I *am* your shield."
Sapphire sat beside her, the old wood creaking. "You're my friend. My *strategist*. Ivy reduces people to functions. Weapons or obstacles. Don't let her shrink you."
"She knows things, Sapphire." Lina's voice dropped to a whisper. "About my sister's plagiarism. About Jason's dad. She asked if I'd rather she 'handled' those secrets… or let them 'slip'."
The threat hung between them, cold and precise. Ivy wasn't just sowing doubt; she was harvesting leverage.
---
Amara's apartment became their war room. Maps of the school were spread across the scarred coffee table, annotated with colored pins:
- **RED**: Ivy's confirmed allies (Elena Choi, resurrected and bitter; Marcus Vale, swim captain with a grudge).
- **YELLOW**: The swaying middle (Debate team freshmen; art club introverts dazzled by Ivy's 'support').
- **GREEN**: Unshakeable loyalists (Mei; Rachel Kim, student council president).
Rachel's arrival was unexpected. She stood in the doorway, rain glistening on her peacoat, her usual polished demeanor frayed. "She came for me today."
Sapphire gestured her in. "Ivy?"
"Accused me of rigging the homecoming vote for you." Rachel accepted a mug of bitter black coffee from Amara. "She's gathering 'testimonies.' Planting the idea of a special election."
Amara scoffed. "On what grounds?"
"'Gross misuse of authority.'" Rachel's laugh was brittle. "Says your charity gala diverted funds from the robotics team. Which is bullshit—their budget was untouched."
Sapphire traced a red pin stuck near the auditorium. "She needs a public win. Something to legitimize her whispers."
Rachel leaned forward, eyes blazing. "Then give her a stage. And shove her off it."
---
The challenge arrived at dawn.
A printed flyer taped to every locker:
> **OPEN DEBATE: THE FUTURE OF CELESTIA LEADERSHIP**
> *Today, 1 PM, Auditorium*
> *Featuring Ivy Renard & Sapphire Chen*
> *Moderated by Student Council*
"No retreat now," Amara muttered, peeling the flyer from Sapphire's locker.
Sapphire crumpled hers into a tight ball. Ivy's trap was set. The stage was her domain—spotlights, optics, the performative tears she wielded like scalpels.
"Time to rewrite the script," Sapphire said.
---
The auditorium thrummed with nervous energy by noon. Students packed the velvet seats, phones held aloft like digital torches. Faculty lingered at the back, faces unreadable. Ivy stood center stage, bathed in warm light, wearing soft pink cashmere—a calculated contrast to Sapphire's sharp, onyx tailored suit.
Rachel, as moderator, took the podium. "We address allegations of misconduct and the vision for Celestia's leadership. Ms. Renard, your opening statement."
Ivy stepped forward, her voice a resonant, sorrowful melody. "For weeks, we've witnessed an administration favoritism that stifles voices. Clubs denied funding. Students silenced. All to protect the *image* of one person." She turned to Sapphire, eyes wide with faux concern. "Power shouldn't be a crown worn in isolation, Sapphire. It should be a shared light."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Cameras flashed.
Sapphire waited. Let the silence stretch. Let Ivy's words hang, then dissipate like smoke. When she finally approached the microphone, her footsteps echoed in the sudden hush.
"Integrity," she began, her voice clear and cool, slicing through the tension, "isn't a performance. It's doing what's right when no one applauds. Funding the art club's murals *knowing* they'd criticize the administration. Backing the robotics team's grant application *after* they publicly questioned my methods." She paused, locking eyes with a robotics member in the third row. "True leadership isn't about control. It's about trust. Trust earned by actions, not staged vulnerability."
Ivy's smile tightened. "Actions like leveraging family donations for influence?"
Sapphire didn't flinch. "The Chen Foundation donated a science wing because Celestia's lab equipment was outdated. Not a favor. An investment in *all* of you. Check the public records; it's been planned for a year." She turned to the audience. "Ivy speaks of 'shared light,' yet she operates in shadows. Whispers. Threats to those who dare support me."
Ivy's composure cracked. "That's a lie!"
"Is it?" Sapphire pulled a sleek tablet from her portfolio. With a tap, audio spilled into the auditorium—Ivy's honeyed voice, unmistakable:
*"…tell Marcus if he wants those party photos buried, he'll convince the swim team to boycott the gala. And Lina? Remind her sister's scholarship hangs by a thread…"*
Gasps erupted. Ivy paled, her hand flying to her throat. "That's edited! Manipulated!"
Sapphire advanced, a predator closing in. "You want power, Ivy? Not to lift others up. To *own* them. To twist their fears into your puppetry strings." She stopped inches from Ivy, her voice dropping to a blade's edge, audible only through the mic. "This school isn't your stepping stone. Its people aren't your pawns."
The silence was absolute. Ivy stood frozen, stripped bare under the harsh stage lights, her mask of compassion shattered.
Rachel reclaimed the podium, her voice ringing with finality. "This debate is adjourned."
---
The fallout was instantaneous.
Ivy fled the stage to a chorus of boos and shocked whispers. Marcus Vale was surrounded by furious swim teammates demanding answers. Lina found Sapphire backstage, tears of relief in her eyes. "You didn't use my sister. You protected her."
"Family is off-limits," Sapphire said quietly. "Always."
Amara materialized from the wings, handing Sapphire a bottle of water. Her fingers brushed Sapphire's, a silent *I'm here*. "She won't recover from this. Not publicly."
Sapphire watched through the heavy curtains as students streamed out, buzzing with indignation and newfound loyalty. "Public humiliation isn't the end, Amara. It's the beginning of something desperate."
As they walked into the emptying hallway, a figure detached from the shadows near the faculty lounge—Mr. Thorne, the austere history teacher who'd watched Ivy with unsettling intensity during the council meeting. His eyes, cold and evaluative, followed Sapphire before he vanished into the stairwell.
Amara's grip tightened on Sapphire's arm. "The puppeteer?"
"Or a player we never saw coming," Sapphire murmured.
The battle was won. But the war's true shape was only now emerging from the shadows Ivy left behind.