“Not all of us will find husbands to install us into beautiful houses, gowns, lives, children”
B
ecca looks down at the printed paper in her hand. Three warm blankets.
She looks around. When she had left Paris, the dorm mother had given her a warm blanket as a gift. She has one of her own, from home. Can she manage with two? Surely Turkey is warm.
But then, there is nothing worse than being cold at night. Perhaps she should ask Hannah for a blanket. Though she doesn’t like to ask for anything.
She opens the trunk, places the two blankets inside, and then her boots.
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