25. Sara

Chapter twenty-five

Sara

I pull up to the sanctuary, but only one light is on. It's not the store, but instead it's the light in May's personal room. As I get out of the car, I look around.

It feels quieter than usual, almost like something happened. I hesitate, looking for any signs of what's going on.

It's been a minute since I've come here. I don't know what's been happening besides the seasonal changes with the animals.

I approach the door and knock. There's no answer. After I grab the knob, I twist it, opening the door.

"May?"

No response. The whole place is dark like it's dead or something. With hesitation, I slowly walk over to the door with the light on. Coughing echoes, and when I stop, I hear a moan of pain.

"May, are you okay?"

I open the door, seeing May on the bed. She coughs, holding her hand to her lips. When I approach, I fake a smile, but I'm worried. It's not like May to just cough like crazy like this.

"May!"

She waves slightly before letting out a final hacking cough.

"Sara, there you are."

I approach, sitting on the chair next to the bed. I clutch her hands and hold them tightly.

"Is everything okay? I came as soon as I heard—"

"I'm all right," she insists. I just got a little sick the last couple of days. It won't be a problem."

"Are you sure?"

May nods. "You know how I am. I'm not some little weakling, you know."

"I know, but still. You've got to take care of yourself."

"I know, dear."

"I'm sorry, I would've come sooner," I reply, feeling guilty. It's not easy to be in two places at once. May's pruned hand waves almost lifelessly.

"That's not what I asked you to come to talk about."

"What do you mean?"

May sits up, her expression sober. She gestures to the desk.

"Go over there and read that, dear."

I walk over to the desk and unfold the paper. I look it over, taking in each word.

"This isn't—"

"It is dear. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I wasn't sure how."

My hands shake as I read the contents. I haven't ever seen that many zeroes.

"This is from debt collectors. May, what's going on?"

May looks down, another hacking cough escaping her.

"I didn't want to tell you because you love this place, but I haven't been able to pay the bills for some time."

"So, you're saying that this place is in debt?"

"Correct. In fact, a lot of debt. It's finally catching up to me. The bank wants this paid in full in the next thirty days, but there's no way that I can. It looks like I'll have to sell this place and then—"

"Please don't. This place means something to you, doesn't it?"

"It does, dear, but I don't have the collateral to pay."

I bite my lip, assessing my options. All of my hard work here on the farm will be for nothing if I lose this place! All of the memories, the animals, everything. It'll be gone.

"You know they're going to turn these animals into meat, May. We can't let them do this!"

May looks down, shaking her head in defeat. "I wish I had the money. If I could, I would pay for it and give the place to you. I don't, however. My accounts are shriveling up. I don't even know where I'm going to live once this place is given over to creditors."

This can't be happening. My home away from home, a place that means more to me than most places, is my dream. It's now gone, becoming a shell of what it was before.

"We can't let them do this."

"It's too late. I don't know what to do—"

"Please, don't give them an answer yet. I'll think of something."

May purses her lips and doesn't respond.

"Sara, I know that you mean well, but I don't have the money to keep this place alive."

"I don't either, but there's got to be something. I'll talk to one of my coworkers at the café. They might know someone who can help with this."

"All right," May replies dismissively. My hands rest on my hips as I look at her.

"May, I get it, but I'm not going to let this place die because of these bills. It means the world to me. YOU mean the world to me."

She smiles, the wrinkles more apparent than before. The news must have aged her.

"Thank you, Sara. But at the end of the month, if we don't have any answers, I'm going to have to give this place up. As for the animals, I'm not sure. You can take the cat, but . . . ."

"Don't think about that, May. I'll fix this."

I grab her hand and squeeze it. May coughs, holding the covers. After she recovers, she looks at me.

"You know, I planned on giving this place to you. I wanted to retire next year after I got the bills sorted out. Now, I feel like I must do the opposite of what I want."

I tear up. I don't want her to think she's some kind of burden.

"You're a wonderful person, May. And, well, if we get through this, I'll gladly take the place over."

"I'd appreciate that. If nothing else, you're the one person I'd leave this animal sanctuary too. Your good, kind heart is something that can't be beat."

I struggle to hold back tears with her words. She always means well, and it's hard to look at her.

"Thank you. I'll do the rounds and make sure the animals are good for the night. It's going to be cold tonight."

"You don't have to do that, dear. They'll be fine—"

"I want to."

I hug her and walk out of her room, back outside. As I make my way toward the horse stalls to make sure they're taken care of, I approach Clover's stall. When I get there and brush her sides, a sad whiny escapes her.

"I know girl. It stinks that things have to happen this way. I'll protect you, though. I promise that no matter what, I'll make sure you stay safe," I say in between tears.

I don't want to think the worst, but I'm worried about what'll happen next. Clover nuzzles me. I hold her close, resting my head against her cleaned mane.

The tears fall. Losing this place, one of the best places in the world for me, will devastate me. There's no other sanctuary close by that is like this. Most of them are dogs and cats only, not larger animals.

And honestly, if we lose this place, I don't know what I'm going to do with Clover. I might have to sell her or give her to a ranch. I don't want her to go anywhere else.

I shake those thoughts and look back up at her.

"We'll fix this. I promise, girl."

Clover nuzzles me in reassurance. I tell her this, but deep down, I don't know what to do. The news feels like a shot in the heart.

After I take care of Clover I do the rounds, checking on the rest of the animals. None of them are fazed by my actions, but I can tell they sense something's amiss. I check on the final animal, the cow named Daisy, who's one of the biggest suppliers of milk here in the sanctuary, then I head back to the car. I slump in the seat, but I don't want to drive. I can't right now.

Instead, I cry. I sit in the car, sobbing. I'm losing everything, and I can't stop this.

I continue to sob, unable to move, until exhaustion overtakes me. I sleep in my car that night, hoping that when I wake up, everything will be back to normal.

Sadly, it isn't, and the reality settles in.

I have a month to fix this, and I pray for the answer.