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"You can't make me -”
Rosie raised one thin hand. Light coalesced around her fingers like spiderweb, and then she was holding the end of a chain.
There was something heavy on Alastor's neck. It weighed like a stone. He scratched at it. He couldn't breathe -
Rosie pulled, and Alastor stumbled. He fell to his knees, scrabbling at the - the collar like a fox in a bear trap.
“Stop,” Rosie said, and his hands stopped. He didn't stop them. His body moved without his permission.
He was supposed to be free -
Rosie said, almost sad, “I think you'll find I can.”