Cela walked outside, her bag on her back, guitar case in her hand. What was she going to do? How was this happening to her? How could that man have stolen everything she had? It wasn't right, wasn't fair. She should have been back in her big house, big comfortable bed, or laying out in their beautiful garden, writing. She had to set this straight. Get back to New York, and fix everything. That's what she would do. Go take the police to that lawyer. What he did wasn't right, it couldn't have been legal. She didn't know how to live on the street, and she wasn't going to have to learn. She could hitch a ride back to New York, it might take some time, but she'd get there.

She walked out to the street, main highway going through town. She put her thumb out, walking east towards New York. A week from now, everything would be right. Except her parents, but, she didn't need to think about that. There was nothing she could do, and there was enough to worry about.

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