She checked again. It has to be in there! It was the third time she went through her purse.
“I really need to see your passport!”
She could hear how impatient he was getting. It has to be in here. It was when she left. And now it seemed to have disappeared.
She had emptied the whole purse on the floor of the coffee stained train station displaying receipts, keys, condoms etc. Unfortunately, the end was near.
Sitting in her Father’s airy compound and remembering how Madam Knot had set her up, tears filled her already swollen eyes.
Regret was all she felt. She had used her body for prostitution and for other unimaginable things and here she was – deported, rejected and used.
‘There is actually no place like home’. She thought.