Ophelia gave her a sympathetic face and waved her into the office. Ophelia offered Mrs. Beulah a seat next to hers, andbefore Ophelia had a chance to fully sit down, Mrs. Beulah grabbed Ophelia’s hand in a death grip.
“Ophie, I don’t need you to treat my knee. I had a vision. Normally, I’d tell Avery, but it’s about the Cutthroat Killers.” Ophelia noticed how she said the plural noun. “I don’t want him to get all worked up again.”
Ophelia nodded, her curiosity piqued. “What did you see?”
“Something is happening, Ophie. Tides are turnin’. We were all being ousted for being magical— losing our jobs, loved ones, and being exiled from our communities.”
“How was it happening?”
“A movement. A shift in our society’s values. It’s coming, my girl. The murders were one thing, but this...this is bigger.”
Ophelia nodded but felt light-headed. She didn’t know what this meant or how to react to it. She took a centering breath and reminded herself that she could withstand anything—beauty and terror.
THE END
