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Marie-Ange thought now that Carole had put them aside because they were ugly. Without saying a word to the child, she zipped the suitcases up again, and told her to put the things on the bed in the narrow closet. Marie-Ange was confused by what she was doing, and then her Aunt Carole told her to go outside and find Tom so she could learn her chores from him, and then she disappeared to her own bedroom far down the dark hallway.
    The foreman was waiting for her outside, and he took her to the barn, and showed her how to milk a cow, and the other minor tasks that were expected of her. They didn’t seem too hard to Marie-Ange, although there were a lot of things her great-aunt wanted her to do, and Tom said that if she couldn’t finish in the morning before she went to school, she could do some of the cleaning up in the late afternoon before dinner. It was a full two hours before he returned her to her Aunt Carole.
    Marie-Ange was surprised to see her dressed and sitting on the porch in her wheelchair, waiting for them. She spoke to Tom, and not the child, and told him to get Marie-Ange’s bags, and drive them into town, as the child looked at her in terror. All she could think of was that she was being dropped off after all at the state institution. And as she followed them to the pickup truck she’d ridden in the night before, she saw the foreman throw her bags behind them into the truck. Marie-Ange said nothing and asked no questions. Her life now was one long, endless terror. There were tears bulging in her eyes as they drove into town, and Carole told the foreman to stop at the Goodwill store. He set up her wheelchair for her, and helped her into it, and then she told him to take the suitcases inside, as Marie-Ange continued to wonder what would happen to her. She had no idea where they were, where they were going, or why they had come here with her suitcases, and her aunt had offered no explanation to reassure her.
    The women at the counter seemed to recognize Carole as she wheeled herself inside, and Tom followed with Marie-Ange’s bags in both hands, and set them down near the counter, at Carole’s direction.
    “We need some overalls for my niece,” she explained, and Marie-Ange let out a silent sigh of relief. Perhaps they weren’t going to the institution, and at least for the moment, nothing too terrible was going to happen. Her aunt selected three pairs of overalls for her, some stained T-shirts, a worn-looking sweatshirt, and some nearly brand-new sneakers, and they chose an ugly brown quilted jacket that was too big for her, but they said it would be warm in winter. Marie-Ange told them in a soft voice, as she tried things on, that she had just come from France, and Carole was quick to explain that she had brought three suitcases of useless clothes with her, and pointed at them. “You can take those against what we just bought for her, and give me credit for the rest of it. She’s not going to need any of it here, and even less so if she winds up at the state orphanage. They wear uniforms,” she said pointedly to Marie-Ange, as tears began to run down her cheeks, and the women behind the counter felt sorry for her.
    “May I keep some of it, Aunt Carole? … My nightgowns … and dolls …”
    “You don’t have time to play with dolls here,” and then she hesitated for a minute, “keep the nightgowns.” Marie-Ange dug in one of the suitcases for them, and found them, and as she pulled them out, she clutched them to her. All the rest of it was going to disappear forever, all the things her mother had bought her so lovingly, and that her father had loved to see her wear. It was like having the last of her lost life torn from her, and she could not stop crying. Tom had to turn away from the sight of her, clutching her nightgowns, and looking at her aunt with utter devastation. But Carole said nothing, handed the package of their purchases to Tom, and wheeled herself out of the store and onto the