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Grey walked me towards a vehicle that was parked at the very entrance of the packhouse. It was a fancy, dark blue car. I timidly looked around me and waited for him to tell me what I should do, whether standing there or getting in.

"Are you sure you don't want to pack anything?" he suddenly asked next to me. I quickly looked at him, then down at my fingers.

I fiddled with my fingers nervously. I hadn't packed any of my clothes, but again, I wanted to take them with me—especially the memorable photograph of my parents I had, not my clothes. But I feared if I said...