Lia

It was a week after my trial, early in the morning, when the number of the Witches Association flashed across my phone.

I paled, pulse racing.

The phone kept ringing. I was frozen, thumb hovering over the green icon.

If I didn’t answer they would be forced to leave a message. A message I would have to return because they certainly wouldn’t give me the results with a phone call.

I take a deep breath and swipe up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Lia Brown?"

"Yeah, that’s me."

"We’ve been ...