I am told to go to the bookstore for a book.  It is the Liber Usualis, the official book of Gregorian Chants.

I walk into the bookstore and see Leitha.  She is waiting for me.  She has the book in her hands.  But first, she has something to say.

She says that they had written to my family for money and was told that there was no more money for me.

Sounds like Titi.  Did they really write to Titi?  I suppose that my grandmother’s address is on my school records and that is what they have.

Some people, she says, will send their children to school and not even give them money for books.

She knows very well what they took from me.  It is the triumphant malice on her face that starts the chain of outraged responses in my head.

Since they took my camera and most of my brand new clothes they have also taken all my money.   My family gave me enough cash to cover what I was likely to spend this school year.  I spent only a fraction of it on the voyage.

And in the unlikely event that she did not know, even though they have endless committee meetings, why didn’t she ask me to write home for money?

No, she knows.  The triumph in her eyes tells me she knows and enjoys making me suffer not only loss but also injustice.

Except for Leitha’s demand for my mandarin jacket they don’t do it in my face anymore, as Oona did.

My things just disappear, one at a time.  They know how to cause prolonged, maximum pain.

They took every bit of jewelry including my watch.  They took my new leather handbag, and even my two trunks.

They have all the power.  They have my passport and all my documents, they control my mail and they control my activities every minute of the day.

There is no one to talk to.  Juanita has gone, as have a few others.  There were no goodbyes.

I keep my thoughts to myself.  I thank Leitha for the book and go back to my chores.