Priscilla
“You like that, don’t you?” I say to the little brown and white baby goat. I am holding a bottle of milk while he eagerly drinks. His little goat tail wags as I stroke his ears with my free hand. Jack had told me I didn’t have to work today, but I needed to do something to get the thought of killing Erik out of my mind.
I felt triumphant immediately after the fight. Sapphire kept reassuring me that we did nothing wrong. Everyone else told me that I did nothing wrong. But I still felt what I did was wrong.
The baby goat bleats when the bottle is emptied. “That’s all you get,” I say, setting the bottle into the cart. I pat him on the head and move on to another little goat bleating for breakfast.
“They seem to like you,” Ken points out as I feed an all-brown goat.
“They are
