Visions of Magic by Regan Hastings

so she’d been through so much, seen so much, she could hardly string two coherent thoughts together beyond the one all-consuming one: Get Me. Out. Of. Here! But as the woman continued to talk, it finally dawned on Shea where she knew her from.
    School. This was the mother of Amanda Hall. The very girl Shea had been talking to when all of this madness had started.
    â€œIt’s Terri, isn’t it? Terri Hall?” Shea said when the woman wound down.
    â€œYes,” She whipped her hair out of her eyes and looked around quickly, making sure no one was close by. “I met you at parent-teacher conference night last month. God, that seems like years ago now. Amazing how fast things can change. How long have you been here, Ms. Jameson?”
    â€œCall me Shea. Just a day or two.”
    â€œThen you must have seen my Amanda since my arrest. Is she all right?”
    All right but terrified, Shea thought but couldn’t bring herself to say it. No more than she’d tell this poor woman that talking to her daughter had started the slippery slope and landed Shea in prison. Terri Hall was locked away from her daughter and Shea couldn’t even imagine the terror the woman must be feeling. Especially since, unlike Shea, Terri hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve this. Instinctively, she reached out to soothe and comfort.
    â€œAmanda’s fine,” she said, squeezing Terri’s hand. “I saw her at school and told her to stay with her grandmother and not to go back to school.”
    â€œGood, that’s good,” Terri muttered. “I still can’t believe any of this is happening. I’m not a witch, for heaven’s sake. One of my neighbors told the MPs that she saw me lighting candles and saying a spell.” She laughed shortly and wrapped her arms around her middle as she lifted her gaze to the soaring sky above them. “I was saying a prayer for my husband. He died last year.”
    â€œI’m so sorry.” It was all crazy and getting worse every day. Ten years after the existence of magic had been revealed, and people were still reacting out of fear.
    Terri nodded and sighed. “Thanks. I’m just so worried about Amanda. And my mom. What if they’re arrested next?”
    Shea had no easy reassurances for her. She knew as well as Terri did that her family was now in even more danger. BOW and the MPs would be watching every move they made for who knew how long.
    As for Terri . . . women caught up in the mob mentality of the witch hunt were pretty much out of luck. Unless the RFW took up Terri’s case, she had no chance of getting out of this camp.
    And unless Torin found her, Shea was in the same boat.
    â€œWhy are you here?” Terri finally asked, then stopped and winced. “I’m sorry—shouldn’t have said that. I mean, I know about your aunt and—”
    â€œIt’s okay,” Shea said, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation about it. Especially not here. In places like this the walls really did have ears. There was no telling how many people were listening in on conversations. They weren’t even safe outside. A parabolic microphone or two could cover most of the yard.
    As if Terri had remembered the same thing, she lowered her voice. “Are you . . . like your aunt?”
    A few days ago Shea would have said no. Now, she was living a new reality. Now, she was dealing with the knowledge that she’d killed a man and was, very possibly, in jail for the rest of her life—at least until her execution. But she looked into the other woman’s eyes and saw compassion. Amazing just how good it felt to be offered understanding. Slowly, Shea nodded.
    Terri smiled. “A month ago, that might have terrified me,” she admitted quietly. “Now, though . . .” She looked around the yard again. At the dozens of women, in a range of ages anywhere from eighty to teens, and she sighed. “There are