She returned with the sandwiches ... Few for you ..few for her

Lina returns from the kitchen carrying a plate of hastily assembled sandwiches—peanut butter and jelly on wheat bread, cut diagonally, the way Jane used to make them. Her eyes are rimmed with red, tear tracks visible on her cheeks despite obvious attempts to wipe them away. She sets the plate on the coffee table and sits at the opposite end of the couch, tucking her bare legs beneath her, the oversized t-shirt riding up just enough to expose the curve of her thigh.

"Eat something," she says, nodding toward the plate. "You look like you haven't had real food in days."

You take a sandwich, suddenly aware of the hollow ache in your stomach. Six days of vending machine snacks and whatever the thugs tossed your way has left you perpetually hungry. The first bite floods your mouth with sweetness and nostalgia—Jane made these exact sandwiches during late-night study sessions.

"Your powers," you say after swallowing. "When did they start? How did they—I mean, I've seen what they can do, but how did you get them?"

Lina takes her own sandwich but just holds it, staring at the bite marks in the bread. Her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath.

"Six months ago," she says. "After... after I'd hit another dead end with Jane's case. I was sitting by my bedroom window, crying, honestly. It was around 3 AM. I saw this...flash in the sky." She gestures vaguely upward. "Like a shooting star, but it seemed to be coming right at me. Then this small object—like a pebble, maybe the size of a marble—came through my open window and landed on my bedroom floor."

She sets the sandwich down untouched, drawing her knees closer to her chest.

"I picked it up. It was warm, slightly iridescent. The moment I touched it, it... crumbled. Just turned to dust between my fingers." Her voice drops to a whisper. "And then I felt it. Like electricity moving through every cell in my body. I passed out. When I woke up the next morning, I thought it was a dream, until I got angry about something trivial—the coffee maker broke—and suddenly my skin started turning to diamond."

She extends her hand in the space between you, and you watch as the transformation ripples across her flesh—the crystalline lattice flowing like water over her fingers, her palm, stopping at her wrist. The diamond gleams in the soft lamp light, prismatic colors dancing across the ceiling.

"I can control it now," she continues, letting the diamond recede back into ordinary skin. "The full transformation or just parts. The diamond form is...different. I'm taller, stronger. Completely invulnerable, as far as I can tell. Bullets, explosives, blades—nothing even scratches it."

She hesitates, then adds: "I don't need to breathe in that form either. No biological functions at all. It's like becoming a living crystal."

You take another bite of sandwich, trying to process the impossibility of what you're hearing. "And the telepathy? The..." You circle a finger near your temple, not wanting to say 'brain liquidation' out loud.

"That came with it," she says, her voice softer now. "In both forms. I can read thoughts within about 300 feet. Surface thoughts are easy—like overhearing conversations. Deeper memories take more effort, and the person usually feels it." She glances at you apologetically. "Like you did in the van."

Your cheeks warm at the memory of her witnessing your intimate moments with Jane. You clear your throat.

"And the teleportation?"

"Limited use," she says. "Takes enormous energy. I can usually manage two jumps before I need to rest for a day. Used one getting us here."

She finally takes a small bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly.

"The other thing—the brain thing—" She winces. "I discovered that by accident. Was cornered by two men trying to mug me. I panicked, wished they would just...stop. And they did. Permanently." She sets the sandwich down again, appetite gone. "I try not to use that one unless I have to."

"Like in the garage," you say quietly.

Lina's eyes meet yours, unapologetic. "They were Marco's men. They would have killed both of us given half a chance."

Silence stretches between you, filled with the weight of everything that's happened. You notice a photograph on the side table—Jane in a summer dress, laughing at something off-camera. Your chest tightens.

"Why didn't she ever tell me about you?" you ask, the question escaping before you can stop it.

Lina's expression softens into something sad and distant. "Jane was...protective. Of both of us, in different ways. She kept her worlds separate. Family here, college life there, boyfriend somewhere else entirely." She shrugs. "That was just Jane."

She reaches for her sandwich again but just holds it, staring at nothing. "She was the careful twin. I was the reckless one." A smile touches her lips, brittle and fleeting. "Guess that hasn't changed."