“If things go back to normal, can I go back home?” The young girl started, eyes shining like wet black pebbles. She wiped her face; before giving up hiding the blotchiness on her cheeks or preventing the taste of salt on her lips.   

Shaking her head, Ms.Tiana padded an old terry cloth on her cheeks and said, “it’s not for me to decide." "I’m sorry.” Drying the trail of sweat and tears off the girl's face, she went on. “You’ll get to know them and-”

“Please, I don’t want to go, they might come back for me. They said they would. And the- they...” Her voice hitched. She took the dry cloth and dampened it, smothering her feeble pleading.

Ms.Tiana, ever careful, worked around the tightness in her throat and the cold sweat on her brow. Clearing her throat, she regained her composure. “You need to appreciate what you have now, not what you don’t.” And with that, she left the girl to mourn with what little time she had and pack what little she owned. What little she had was no longer of concern.