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Letting it Go

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"Hey, Mary, which one of us do you think would get ice powers?"

"Hm." She's only been half-watching the movie in front of her for the past forty-five minutes. Considering how many times Darla has watched it on repeat, it's a miracle that she doesn't know the whole thing by heart. "Billy, maybe."

Darla pouted. "I meant us!" Though she gestured between the two, her hands were moving so wildly that she could have been referring to the bookshelf and coffee table too.

"How should I know?" Shooting lightning bolts from her hands is enough trouble.

"Just imagine!"

"What, even worse winter weather than we already have?"

Darla's glare was about as sharp as a butter knife. She leaned further back into the sofa, her eyes returning to the movie. Knowing her, she'd ask the question again at dinner.

Maybe Mary would have an answer by then.