Page 13 of Sanctuary

“How do you know that?” Paige asked, her expression stony.

“I watch you. I know you take food from the kitchen, and it’s always something easy to store that will last. I’m not stupid,” Sarah replied confidently.

Paige looked at Misty. “Can we trust her?”

Misty turned to Sarah. “Why do you make them punish you?”

She shrugged. “I get punished no matter what I do.” She smiled, her chipped tooth noticeable. “The only person they pick on more is Paige. They did this to my tooth.” She smiled wide. “My mother and father visited me last month and said a man would overlook my imperfect teeth, but he would not overlook a wife who didn’t obey.” She shrugged again. “I’m not going home.”

“It won’t be easy on the street and your theatrics when you’re punished won’t work out there,” Paige warned.

“The loud crying and moaning?”

“Yes, that.”

Sarah’s smile grew and a spark lit her eyes. “I want to be an actress. I work on roles every chance I get. The cane hurts but I found they lighten up when I make a bigger scene.” She shrugged. “It’s not easy in here, and it definitely wasn’t easy at my house.”

Paige looked back at Misty. “We could use the help.”

Misty gave a slight nod rather impressed with Sarah.

“You’re in,” Paige declared, “but if you tell anyone, I’ll beat your ass.”

“You’ll try,” said the younger girl, who was at least six inches shorter than the older two.

Paige gave her a look, and Misty was sure Sarah had just ruined her chances of going with them.

“I like you,” Paige finally said. “You’ve got guts, and even though you’re a scrawny thing, you’ll do okay on the street.”

“When are we going?” Sarah asked eagerly.

“As soon as the storm arrives,” Paige replied, sealing their pact with fist bumps.

Chapter Ten

Savage Sanctuary Island, Simon

Simon didn’t sleep that night. Thoughts of Jerry lying about money kept him awake. The horrible things he made Simon do allowed the newfound hatred to grow. The hunts were the worst. Simon replayed each death in his head. His cats were living, breathing, and beautiful creatures. The hunters had zero compassion, only wanting the trophy. Even though the island had an area that made hunting more realistic, the cats never stood a chance. They ran terrified from the hunters and died in fear with a bullet through the heart if they were lucky. Simon had heard the suffering cries when the bullet only wounded. His hatred grew a bit more.

Selling the cubs was horrible too. To help bond with the new owners, the cubs were taken away before they were ready. The cries of the babies were heard until they cleared the island. The mothers mourned for days and sometimes weeks, their grief breaking Simon’s heart. A lion died because she developed an infection in one of her milk glands due to the separation from her cubs. Simon hated that rich people thought having a wild animal was cool.

He would never get the live chicken feedings out of his head again. There were so many things wrong with the sanctuary, and he, Simon, the one who loved the cats so much, was part of it.

His foggy brain couldn’t shut off even when faint rays of light came from outside. He hit his palm against his head several times.

“Think, Simon, think,” he said aloud.

He’d never questioned anything Jerry told him. He knew Jerry was a rotten person, but he also saw him as the savior who had taken him off the streets when Simon was the most desperate. On top of room and board, Jerry gave him a twenty-dollar allowance each week. Simon ate free in the cafeteria and had few expenses. When he went to the city, he shopped at thrift stores, though he had to get lucky to find things in his size. What once seemed strange when Jerry apologized that he couldn’t pay Simon more, made sense now. Jerry could afford to pay more but he didn’t see Simon as worthy of more.

Simon thought Jerry had given him a good life.

Jerry had not.

He made the cats suffer.

Jerry was worse than a bad person, but Simon didn’t know the right word and he didn’t know what he could do about any of it. His brain worked slower than other people but when he thought of a problem long enough, he could usually solve it. What Simon did know was that he couldn’t live without his cats.

The storm would hit the following afternoon. It was a category three, but they expected it at a four when it hit land. Simon knew that all hurricanes were bad and this one might be worse than others. They had boards for the windows, and he worked with Roberto to get them secured.

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