“I’m Charles,” the man across from me said, and his hand engulfed mine. “That there is Ralph,” he added, nodding to the silent man on my right. “He doesn’t talk much. Been kinda down since the cell next to him went empty last year.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I glanced at him. “Someone got out, huh?”

Mary picked at her crust, skirting where the butter was. “Tried. If they catch you alive, they neuter your magic the old-fashioned way. Ralph, show Sunshine your scar.”

Sunshine? I thought, not happy about the nickname, but Ralph put down his fork and pulled the hair up from his forehead. “Oh my God,” I whispered, and he let his hair fall, turning back to his meal and carefully manipulating the fork … concentrating on it. Slowly, very slowly. They had lobotomized him.

“Tha-that’s inhuman,” I stammered.

Charles stoically met my horrified gaze. “We’re not human.”

Silence fell, and I felt cold. I had to get out of here. Like now! Why hadn’t anyone summoned me home yet? Ivy said she was okay, but what if Jenks really was hurt and she’d been lying so I wouldn’t worry?

I was so lost in my thoughts that I jumped when I realized someone was standing behind me. I turned, coming eye to middle with one of the biggest women I’d ever seen. She wasn’t fat, she was big. Big boned, big chested, big ankles, and big hands. Her pudgy face made her eyes look small, but they glinted with intelligence.

“Hey, Mary,” she said with a southern accent. It wasn’t the elegant sound of a southern belle, but the ugly twang of trailer trash on the edge of the woods with a trampoline out front and stacks of TV Guides by the door. Her fat-lost eyes stared at me as she casually took Mary’s tray, holding it over the smaller woman’s head while she shoveled her breakfast into her mouth.

“Lenore, this is Rachel,” Mary said, her tone shifting to a respectful fearfulness. It pegged my bully meter, and my face warmed. “Rachel has Mark’s old cell,” Mary finished.

Lenore’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t need dis, honey,” she said, setting Mary’s tray down and taking up mine. “Yer figure’s jest fine. Let Auntie Lenore take care of yo-o-o-ou.”

Just how many syllables are in “you”? I thought dryly. I wasn’t going to eat it, but I wasn’t going to let Auntie Lenore think she could walk over me either. Trouble was, it was kind of tight at the table, and she held the tray right over me.

I took an angry breath. Mary shook her head, scared. The posted guards weren’t watching. They were careful not to, by my estimation. Fine. “Charles, make a hole,” I said, and the man casually made a little hop with his hip. Three people protested as he shoved them down, but his bulk made the move fast and easy.

I ducked under the table and slid all the way to the other side, popping up beside him and stepping up onto the bench seat. Standing taller than Lenore, I jerked my tray away. Or at least I tried. The woman had a grip on it as if it was a ticket out of here.