“We have to get serious here, friends.” Micah took a plump grapefruit from a nearby tree and rolled it into the center of the circle. “As you all know, Justin left yesterday. After his outburst during group circle, we had an open discussion, and I decided it was time for him to leave.”

Sero replayed his words from the night before. Hadn’t Micah told her that Justin had chosen to leave on his own?

“But his stuff is still in our room,” Jeremy said. “You sure he’s not just pissed off, the way he gets sometimes, and he’ll come back in a few days?”

“He’s not coming back. I asked him to leave and that’s final. He didn’t want his belongings. You can use them or toss them,” Micah said. “As we all know, the Sanctuary is a special place. Many of you pointed out that Justin didn’t honor our values all the time, so it was best for him to leave. For the good of the group.” Micah glanced around the circle. “This is an important juncture, friends. Cerise and Daphne are joining us tomorrow. We’re on the verge of great things. Each of you should ask yourself right now, at this moment, whether you really believe in our vision.” It sounded like a rhetorical question, so Sero remained quiet, but she saw several people nodding. “Do you?” Micah extended his arms out in front of him.

“Yes,” David said.

“Yes!” Ericka echoed. And a chorus of voices called back to him.

“What are you willing to do to make those beliefs a reality?” Micah’s voice rose. “It won’t be easy. We have obstacles and challenges in many forms. There are those, like Justin, who try to break us down from the inside. And there are those out there”—he pointed out behind him—“who are threatened by what we represent. I want to show you something.” Micah stood, walked a few feet away from the firepit, and came back carrying a newspaper bundle. “This is an example of what we have to contend with.” He placed the bundle down on the ledge of the firepit and delicately began to unwrap it.

Jasmine screamed, her hands flying up to cover her face.

“Oh my god,” Ericka said.

“What the hell is that?” Rufus muttered.

Sero craned her neck to see. Nestled in the center of the crumpled newspaper was a grotesque bloody mess of matted white feathers, tiny entrails, and what appeared to be a small orange beak.

“That,” Micah said, pointing to the bundle, “is what’s left of our dozen new baby chicks, courtesy of our neighbor’s dog.”

The rest of the group shook their heads in disgust. “Oh my god, what a sick fuck,” Rufus muttered.

“He’s doing this because he’s threatened by us, but we’re not going to let him win,” Micah said. “Tomorrow, I’m going to get two dozen new baby chicks, and we’re going to install barbed wire around the coop, in case that dog comes back.”