Theo, eyebrows bridged by a crease of concentration, waved her fingers midair in a seeming random pattern. When she finished, Sela gasped. The glowing trails coalesced to clearly show a portrait of their mother. The image sparkled before disappearing.
“You can do it, too. When…?”
“The night Mom died,” Theo whispered.
“We can’t tell him. You do know that, right?”
“I know, Sela. If Father finds out, I’ll be put in the institution just like Mom.”
Sela sat up straight, fists balled in her lap. Fear gathered in her throat but she shook her head and swallowed it.
“He’ll have to go through me first,” she growled.
The air shimmered and the eyes of both girls widened. They clasped hands and bowed their heads, thanking the goddess and their mother’s spirit. Two would now stand strong against the blindly bigoted theocracy headed by their maniacal patriarch.