At the Cohens’ luxurious house in London, Becca lay awake in her beautiful new room, in a big feather bed under a down comforter. Gina, the doll she’d brought from home, lay beside her. In the hall outside, she could hear Priscilla and Mrs. Daniels talking about her.
“She doesn’t belong here,” Priscilla whined.
“Hush, now. She might hear you and start that incessant crying again.”
Lying on her back, Becca stared up at the ceiling. Her face was stone, blank and emotionless. She turned and hugged her doll. Taking the edge of the bedsheet, she pretended to wipe tears off its face. “Don’t worry, Little Gina,” she whispered. “Mutti still remembers you.”
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