“Who is that?” Rosalie asked as she moved to my side. “My sister.” “You can’t take it, he’ll know it was you,” she said firmly. “Is this really your big plan?” “What did I say about underestimating me?” I shot at her before, moving to a notebook on Gustard’s nightstand and ripping out a page. I shut my eyes as I focused, extending my will into the page and casting an illusion on it so it was a double of my sister’s photograph. Then I ripped it into pieces and tossed it on the cell floor.
