I couldn’t tell him just yet, I had to know the reason behind her action. “Why?”
“Mr. John’s decision.”
“Galaxy was a pet, he was purely a pet!”
“None of the animals on this farm are pets. Even that damned dog has to work for its keep.”
“He had no right. Galaxy was mine.”
“He paid for that critter’s feed.”
“Dante, what is it?” Micajah demanded.
“We had Galaxy for Sunday dinner.”
“Your rabbit?”
I nodded, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. If the cats had got to him, his head wouldn’t have been severed from his body.” A cleaver—the one Elvira had used to butcher my rabbit?—was lying beside the sink, and I grabbed it up and whirled around to head toward the hallway that led to the stairs going up to John Moore’s bedroom. “I’ll kill him.”
Micajah caught me before I could leave the room. “You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”
Elvira gave a bark of laughter, and Micajah whirled on her with a snarl. “You bitch!”