“I’m afraid it is, yes,” he said, and then he walked with us to our classroom.

“I was told to go there and pack up the equipment that I’d brought.” Mr. Khouri took a seat at his desk and we all crowded around. “I was also told not to speak to any of the children at all. The other teachers were instructed to do the same.”

I could feel myself about to cry.

“What about Merjeme?” Sam said. “Did you see her—is she okay? The papers said she was out of the hospital.”

Mr. Khouri looked at each of us, and my heart plummeted toward the ground.

“They told her mother and aunt that she was in a lot of trouble for what she’d done.” I didn’t think he meant to, but Mr. Khouri’s eyes seemed to stay on Aidan. “Some of the shop owners said they intended to press charges, and so while she was sitting by Merjeme’s bedside, the government officials had her mother sign the voluntary consent forms, allowing them to be taken home.”

I must have made a sound, because Jed reached for my hand and squeezed it.

“They never came back to the haven. They were taken directly to the airport.”

Sam shook his head. “How can that be allowed? How can they . . .”

“They just can, Mr. Murray.”

And then he said it was nearly time for class to start, and we had to file out and wait for the bell to ring. But while Jed and Aidan went, Mr. Khouri waved at me and Sam to hang back.

“My friend and colleague Ms. Ramusa told me—”

“Nora! You spoke to Nora?” I interrupted. Mr. Khouri’s eyes widened, and I felt Sam looking at me oddly too.

“How do you know Nora?” Mr. Khouri asked.

“She . . . she was sharing the same hospital room with Anika, for a little while,” I explained, and I watched as Sam’s jaw dropped.

Mr. Khouri nodded slowly, like he understood. “Well, Ms. Ramusa told me that she’d been at the hospital for her checkups and saw the family there. She said that Merjeme’s mother can barely speak English, let alone read it, and may not have had a clue what signing those papers meant.”

I bit my lip to stop from saying the angry words that were in my head.

“She also spoke to the girl, who admitted to stealing various paraphernalia from Mr. McMillan’s and other cafés, along with her friends, but . . .” Mr. Khouri paused, and rubbed at his forehead before he continued. “She said they were gathering supplies.”

“Supplies?” Sam said.

Mr. Khouri nodded once. “For when they would run away from the haven.”

My mouth opened in shock.

“Tell your father, Winifred, that I intend to come see him about these matters tomorrow. It’s something his station should be aware of.”