In the original book, the power isn’t unique to Carrie—King explicitly shows it running through maternal bloodlines and references other telekinetics throughout history. Sue’s survival, her “guilt,” and the fact that Adelaide treats her like a pure victim are classic recruitment markers, not proof she is outside the group.
The Others (or whatever Flanagan is calling them) don’t tip their hand to potential carriers until they have confirmation. The necklace matching Rita and Adelaide is the tell in the novel the gift was never confined to one girl in Chamberlain.
Book readers know Carrie was never the anomaly the prom made her look like.
In Stephen King’s 1974 book, Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan kill Tommy Ross when one of the blood buckets drops on his head and knocks him out; he dies later in the fire while unconscious. Carrie does not use her powers on him. The blood, the laughter, and his collapse are the final trigger that snaps her. She runs out, then deliberately returns, locks the gym doors, turns on the sprinklers, rips down live wires, and sets the place (and later the town) ablaze while broadcasting telepathically that she is responsible. Narration describes her smiling as she looks back at the trapped students and continuing the destruction after “realizing what she has done” and her sanity breaks.
She shows complex leftover attachment only to her mother (she still goes home seeking comfort before Margaret stabs her and Carrie stops her heart). There is no textual evidence of special mourning or guilt over Tommy that is absent for the rest. The dying telepathic connection with Sue Snell is about clearing Sue of blame and shared pain, not a catalogue of regret for the body count. The idea that Tommy was the singular exception she truly felt bad about is largely an invention of the film adaptations (especially the 2013 version, where she visibly mourns him and that specifically ignites the rampage). In the book, once the switch flips, the distinction collapses into pure, indiscriminate rage.