CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Scratch stared up at the early morning sunlight coming in through the broken ceiling. He’d seen the ragged hole from outside, but he hadn’t been able to make himself believe it. Now he could see that the cage was littered with dirt and rubble. One girl—the freshest one, the Irish one—was missing, and the other two were huddled together staring at him fearfully.
Grandpa was furious. “Look how you botched it this time!” he said. “How could you let a thing like this happen?”
“I didn’t know it needed repair,” Scratch pleaded.
“Hell, do I have to tell you every damn thing to do?”
Scratch couldn’t stop staring at the hole in the ceiling. In his mind, Grandpa ranted on.
“You’ve got to get to work. You’ve got to get this place fixed up. Tight as a drum, I’m telling you.”
“I
