Desireen was not uncomfortable. The house “in foreign’ was modern, the work was less taxing than that she had done at home.
Her room was very nice.
She did not call her family. She did not write them.
They no longer existed in her mind.
Days passed, weeks, then Mrs. Govern, from the agency called her. She told her that her family was worried about her and needed her to contact them.
“They aren’t my family, Mrs. Govern,” Desireen stated crisply.
“Those people are only calling because they want money. I am not sending them any money.”
Desireen had never spoken with such authority before. Mrs. Govern understood and accepted.
As Desireen hung up the phone she looked around. She realised she was here, on her own. She could work and save and one day be able to have a life.
She could be something.