Sometimes I canât breathe in this goddamn place; my chest feels like sand. I donât understand whatâs happening. I was too cold and too long outside. I canât understand the clean sheets, the sweet-smelling bedspread, the food that sits before me in the cafeteria, magical and warm. I start to panic, shake, choke, and Louisa, she comes up very close to me in our room, where Iâm wedged into the corner. Her breath on my face is tea-minty. She cups my cheek and even that makes me flinch. She says, âLittle one, youâre with your people.â