Anna shut the door of her bedroom with a soft click, her face flushed with excitement and the thrill of control.
Lily followed her in, looking dazed and winded after the long climb from Jasmine's room.
The page of Jasmine's handwriting was now tucked safely into Anna's vanity drawer, alongside the torn-out letters from Hunter.
Anna walked straight to her desk and pulled out the materials she'd prepared earlier—ink, parchment, two fountain pens, and Hunter's personal letters.
She placed them on the table like weapons, each one a key to Jasmine's downfall.
"Well," she said, turning to Lily with a smirk, "I did most of the work already. Your turn."
Lily blinked. "My turn?"
Anna sat on her bed, crossed her legs, and waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, dear Lily. You're the best at mimicking handwriting, remember? You used to forge your father's signature to skip etiquette classes. Don't act innocent now."
