“I love you, Ella,” he croaks.
“No!” I cling to him, refusing to believe this is real. He can’t leave me. I won’t let him. But even as I tell him that, his body falls limp beneath me, his head lolling to the side as the life fades from his eyes.
“Please!” I look at Narcissa, a frantic, desperate energy making my voice too high. “You have to do something!”
Her trembling hands fall to her sides, and in the span of a few seconds, her face morphs from horror to hatred.
“I think you’ve done enough for us all, Ella.”
1
Ella
“That’s a good girl, Mabel.” My fingers dance over her glossy black mane. “Look at how far you’ve come.”
She dips her head and nudges me with her nose, offering me a cheeky little kiss. Mabel is a former racehorse who was abused at the hands of her owners, and when she first arrived at Hilliard, she was so skittish we feared she might never recover. But time and patience have given her space to trust again, and now she spends her days happily lazing around the English countryside. I love to work with her whenever I get the chance, and while I try not to pick favorites, I think I’ve developed a soft spot in my heart for the jet-black Arabian mare.
“I wish I could stay a little longer, but I have to go.” I nuzzle her face one last time. “Enjoy your dinner.”
She swishes her tail and turns her attention to the hay as I scurry off through the pasture, counting off the feed stations to make sure I got them all. When I get to the gate, Olivia is already waiting for me, shaking her head with amusement. She’s the owner of Hilliard Animal Sanctuary, and she’s been kind enough to let me volunteer my time here whenever I get a chance to slip away from home.
“All the other horses are going to get jealous if you keep giving her smooches.” She laughs.
A grin splits across my face. “I don’t pick favorites, and you know that.”
“Sure, you don’t.” She smirks. “Try telling that to your shadow.”
On cue, the tiny kitten appears and paws at my leg to get my attention. Alfred’s just a little ball of gray fluff with the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and I’d be lying if I said he hadn’t stolen my heart. When I scoop him up into my arms, he curls against my chest and starts to purr.
“Any word on the puppies?” I ask.
Anxiety swirls in Olivia’s eyes as she nods. “The vet wants to keep them for a while longer before he releases them.”
I scratch Alfred’s ears, contemplating what else I can do to help. A couple of weeks ago, someone dumped a litter of gravely sick puppies at Olivia’s doorstep in the middle of the night. They’ll require a lot of care upfront unless we can find someone willing to adopt them, which seems unlikely. The animals who need more attention rarely get adopted. Olivia is worried about the vet bills, and it’s hard not to feel helpless. It seems like every week someone else is asking her to save another abandoned animal. Meanwhile, the vet is pressuring her to pay off her existing balance before he provides any more care.
“I have five alteration orders this week,” I tell her. “One of the neighbors bought some dresses that need hemming. I’ll come right over on Sunday and give you whatever I earn from those.”
“Thank you, Ella.” Her face softens. “I appreciate it, but you better get home now. It’s past four already.”
“Crap!” I set Alfred down, and he swishes his tail as he meows up at me.
“You know you don’t have to come here every day.” Olivia studies me with concern. “Not if it’s going to get you into trouble.”
My chest deflates, and a desperate sorrow unfurls inside me. “This is the only sanctuary I have. If I couldn’t come here—”
“I know.” She squeezes my shoulder. “And I wouldn’t ever want you to stop. But I don’t want to get you in trouble, and truthfully, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep this up.”
“I’m still trying to get funding,” I insist. “More donations are coming in every week.”
She placates me with a smile, but deep down, I know the sanctuary is in big trouble. As it stands, we are relying on donations for food to get by from week to week. Not to mention all the other costs involved with running such a vast operation. Olivia has a kind heart, but unfortunately, there are more irresponsible pet owners in this world then there are dollars in her bank account.
When I look around this place that has become home to so many animals, the thought of it disappearing brings tears to my eyes. If we can’t take care of them, I don’t know what their futures will hold. It’s a bitter fact that many of these babies who have already had such difficult lives will likely end up in places where they’ll be euthanized.
“We’ll figure something out,” I promise, but my voice cracks. “I’ll write another letter to the royal secretary.”
“I don’t know what I would do without your help.” Olivia pulls me in for a hug, only to be interrupted by a tiny mew from below.
“Oh, Alfred.” I reach down and pat him on the head. “I wish I could take you home too. But unfortunately, our visits here will have to do for now.”
Alfred doesn’t seem to agree, opting to weave between my feet to convince me otherwise. If I had any confidence he could go undetected at the manor, I would take him. But it’s safer for him to stay here for now.
“You better get home.” Olivia nudges me. “Narcissa is probably coming unglued.”
I cringe at the very thought. “I don’t know where my head is at lately.”
“Up in the clouds,” she calls after me as I set out for the path home. “As always.”
“Where in the bloody hell have you been?” Lavinia snarls as soon as I slip into the entryway.
“Sorry, I’m late.” I toe off my muddy shoes and leave them by the door, rushing to clear the cups on the table in front of them.
“Oh, God.” Magnolia waves a hand in front of her face. “You smell like a horse’s ass.”
“I had to make my own tea!” Lavinia glares at me. “And I’m starving. I want dinner now.”
“I’ll get it started right away,” I assure them. But before I can get that far, Narcissa appears in the hallway, blocking my path.
Her eyes roam over me, cold and critical as she shakes her head. “Disappointment. That’s what I should call you. Honestly, Ella, look at you. Roaming the countryside in those rags you call clothes. Do you have no shame?”
I glance down at the faded jeans I scored from a thrift shop, hoping she doesn’t notice the hole in the knee that I still need to mend. While Narcissa is quick to criticize my wardrobe, she’s even faster in refusing assistance to correct the sad state of my clothing. She squandered every last penny of my father’s life insurance on London’s finest for her and my stepsisters while I’ve made do with scraps of fabric and my mother’s old pieces.
“I’m sorry.” My head dips under the weight of her scrutiny. There’s no point in arguing. I learned that the hard way. This life is my punishment for taking my father away. I caused his death and ruined all our lives.