Illusions is a novella written by Nicole Schroeder and Ashley Tanner, about a girl named Gemma who has the ability to see people’s true character at a single glance. Each post in the following blog series is one chapter of Illusions.[vc_empty_space]The girl sat outside in her car early that morning, munching on a piece of gum to keep herself from dozing off.  She wasn’t used to getting up this early — she found it hard to believe anyone could ever get used to a 4 AM alarm, and she yawned and rubbed her eyes, as if in emphasis of her ongoing inner argument. 
“I better be getting a bonus for this,” she muttered under her breath, her accent lilting her words to sound less annoyed than the were meant. It was taking so long for that girl, Gemma, to get going, and she didn’t want to have to wait here much longer —
Ah, finally. The girl watched as Gemma headed out of her house for the day, hugging her jacket to her chest before heading off to work. She ducked her head lower as she walked, purposefully avoiding eye contact with everyone walking past her on the sidewalk. The girl in the car glanced down at the file in her hand and back up at the girl, comparing the photograph with the dark-haired girl disappearing around the corner. It was Gemma, all right, and with her roommate having left only a few minutes earlier, now was her cue. Grabbing the bag of tools from the passenger seat next to her, she got out of the car and headed up to the apartment building in front of her, up the stairs to the second floor and to the room number she had memorized the day before. 
Once there, she jiggled the door handle once — as always, it was locked. With a sigh, she slung the bag off of her shoulder and grabbed her tools, picking the lock expertly after only a minute. “It would save me so much time if people weren’t so freakin’ cautious,” she said with a sigh, swinging the door open and heading inside.
This next part was much harder — she didn’t quite have much of an idea of what she was looking for, no thanks to Elijah. That being said, he had suggested she start in the girl’s room, so after a quick once-over the apartment, she headed into the farther of the two bedrooms, silently admiring the girl’s taste in fashion and design as she looked around. 
Inside, it was a little easier to find things that might’ve been of use to those of them working the case. There were photos here and there of the girl and her family, a computer open to a draft of an email in her gmail account. As the girl spun around the room once more, however, it was the bed sheet that caught her eye. Something was sticking out from inside the mattress….
Crouching down, she tugged the item out easily from where it had been wedged, examining it carefully. “Well, what are the chances of that?” she asked in disbelief, chuckling slightly. It was Gemma’s diary, from the looks of it — a tired leather notebook with fraying edges and fading ink on the pages. The girl grinned, stuffing it into the bag along with her tools before straightening. She had enough, she decided, and she had already taken more time than she had thought she would need to find this. She glanced around, but determining the room to be fairly in order, she headed back out to her car. On her way out, she hit the first number in her phone, knowing it would only take a few rings for him to answer. 
“Wolfgang? I think you’re going to like what I found.”

***

Gemma’s heart sunk deep into her stomach, an even worse feeling from when it had hammered in her chest a moment before. It wasn’t laying out; her journal was gone — entirely so. She glanced around her room, taking in the organized mess that was as she normally left it. Except…
No, her eyes weren’t deceiving her. The picture on her nightstand had definitely been moved, facing another direction from the angle it normally faced — toward her bed, so she could look at it every night before she slept. Now it faced outward, the thin line of disturbed dust on the table confirming what she’d already known. Someone had rifled through her things and taken her journal, and she knew who did.
Whipping out her cell phone, she punched numbers into the keypad shakily, trying three times before entering the right combination of digits. Holding the piece up to her ear, she waited impatiently, pacing the room and biting her nails subconsciously. Each ring echoed in her head, seeming to take all too long to fall silent once more. The tone sounded once, twice, three times —
“Gemma!”
“Elijah, give me back my things. I swear, I’m going to sue you! You had no right —“
“Wait, wait, what?” he stumbled over his words, obviously confused. Well, maybe. He could’ve been faking it, she considered. “Gemma, what are you talking about?”
“My journal. I’m giving you until five to bring it back until I’m calling the cops.” She hoped he believed her, though a part of her said she was bluffing.
“Look, I didn’t take your stupid journal, and I’m sorry for what you saw that night at the office, but you never gave me a chance to explain.”
She sighed and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Then explain now.”
He paused, and she worried the line had gone dead. Finally, though, he spoke. “Not here, not over the phone. Meet me by that old bookstore tomorrow night. I’ll tell you everything then, but I have to go.”
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