Chapter 73

It was the same taxi. Latisha helped Mrs. Dashiell pack her few belongings into the trunk. Most of it-moldy blankets and ragged clothes-had to be thrown away. But Mrs. Dashiell couldn't bear to part with them. Years of being destitute had made her terrified of having nothing. She was afraid that if she were kicked out again, she wouldn't even have clothes to cover herself.

Latisha understood. She packed everything up and stored it in the utility room at the villa.

Perhaps because she was still weak from her fever, after putting the bags away, the world suddenly tilted. Her body went limp, and she collapsed.

Mrs. Dashiell, who had just changed her clothes, threw down her cane and rushed over. "Latisha!"

When she was helped up, Latisha's head throbbed from the fall. It took a long moment for her to open her eyes.

"What happened?" Mrs. Dashiell breathed a sigh of relief. "Why did you faint like that?"

Latisha signed, *I think it's just anemia.*