It didn't take long for Sarah to get used to the schedule. Get up, eat breakfast, go to the basic linguistics class, go work in Professor Dupont's office, eat lunch, have a Paradisian lesson, attend a Syrealian class (since she had no formal education in it), go back to work for the Professor until dinner, and then have free time after dinner. She spent most of that free time trying to improve her Paradisian and her Aleman. She needed a translator for the linguistics class, but she wasn't the only one. It was her tutor's hope that by the next term she wouldn't need one.

"You have a good grasp on writing, but not enough experience with listening to it or speaking it to do you a whole lot of good." She had explained. "Though you can hardly be blamed."

Sarah did find herself pretty homesick and lonely. There always seemed to be something going on. The other students were nice enough, but whenever she went out with them, she felt like she was intruding. The language barrier didn't help, nor did the Syrealian soldiers who seemed to be increasing in number every day. It wasn't long before she elected to stay on campus all the time.

"You spend much more time in my office and legally I'll have to start paying you a secretary's salary." Professor Dupont remarked one day. "Not that I would mind, but you don't have a worker's visa. It'd be illegal."

"I'm not experienced enough with a typewriter anyways." Though something was odd about his typewriter. It would ding at random times, almost like someone had been typing on it when no one was there. Yet there usually wasn't any paper in there.

"Are you not getting along with the other students? Is that why you're here most of the time?"

"No, they're nice. It just takes me a while to get used to new people. Give me another month." Hopefully by then, she wouldn't feel like such an outsider. It didn't help that she was always more comfortable around people older than her over those her own age.

Someone knocked on the door and she got up to let them in. A young man in a charcoal coat entered. But what caught her eye was the fox that followed him. It had patches of white among the brown, meaning that its winter coat was coming in. Despite how scraggly it looked because of that, Sarah couldn't help but watch it. She had heard that there was a breed of domesticated fox, but she had never seen one. They were expensive in Liba because they had to be imported and most people outside of the very rich couldn't afford them.

The professor and young man greeted each other in the typical Paradisian fashion, a kiss on the cheek. That was a greeting she had trouble adjusting to, though those who knew her refrained from doing it. They chatted for a second before Professor Dupont turned to her.

"Sarah Hidalgo, meet Juste, freelance reporter and a good friend of mine. Oh, and I see you've noticed LouLou."

To her surprise, Juste held out his hand for a shake. "It's nice to meet you, Sarah. The Professor tells me you're from Liba. I've been there a few times. Nice country."

"Likewise, Juste. And I suppose so. You've probably traveled through more of it than I have." After all, there was quite a bit of ground to cover in Liba. She shook his hand. "I'll let you and the Professor have your private conversation. I can brush up on a few things before dinner."

LouLou watched her go as she made herself comfortable on one of the chairs in the office. Sarah couldn't deny the fact that she was very cute, even if her only experience with foxes involved her uncle complaining about them eating the eggs and sometimes the chickens. But the breed of fox LouLou was didn’t look like that particular breed. Those were leaner and taller than her and tended to be really shy around people, which was why it was rare to actually see one.

Sarah made her way to her room. It was about the same size as her small bedroom back home and had a desk, a trunk for storage, a closet, and a nightstand. None of them were anywhere near full and her desk was probably the only thing that saw much use. She had stowed her luggage under the bed, somehow, but wasn't sure if she'd be able to get it out again if she needed to. She picked up the text book on the Paradisian language and opened it up to the page she had bookmarked. Part of her wished she had a radio so she could listen to music while she studied, but she wouldn't want to disturb her neighbors, who she had yet to meet. Probably because they took night classes, so they were asleep during the day.

Once she finished the section up, she retrieved her journal from the desk. She hadn't written much in it and only the barest of details on the days she remembered to. As search happy as the soldiers seemed to be, she didn't want it to be seized and read for their amusement. Not that she had ever been good at journaling, but her father had insisted that she should keep on. He had said that with it, she could write a memoir that made lots of money once she came back and then he could retire. He had laughed after that and said he hadn't meant it, but journaling might do her some good when she got lonely.

She was about to put pen to paper when someone knocked on her door and slipped an envelope under it. Sarah got up from the chair and opened the door. A glance up and down the hall reveal that no one was there. She closed the door and picked up the envelope. When she opened it, she instantly recognized the handwriting of the Professor.

Sarah-

Pack everything you need for a day trip and come to my office as quickly as you can.

Well, it was certainly a mysterious note, but she did as he asked. She slipped her journal and pen into the same coat pocket with her passport and wallet. Sarah made sure to put on her shoes she wore whenever she would be walking a lot. That was what she'd wear for a day trip. She hurried down to his office and knocked on the door.

"Professor, are you-?"

He opened the door and pulled her in. She noticed that the fire was going in the fireplace. But it struck her as odd, seeing that it wasn't that cold yet and probably wouldn't be getting cold until a couple of weeks from now. He locked the door and threw a file into the fire.

"Professor! What...?"

"Sh, not so loud!" He cautioned as he threw another one into the fire. "Juste has informed me that today, the government is going to announce that any visas and passports for people from Liba are no longer valid. This, of course, is the doing of the Syrealians they brought in for purely security reasons. They want all Libans to report to the embassy. But this is a trap. The Syrealians have no intention of letting them getting near the embassy. They're going to gather them up, claiming that they will have to go somewhere special to renew it. But I doubt they will."

"Are they going to deport them then? I mean, they don't really like us in the first place. Why wouldn't the Syrealians kick us out if they could?"

"They want them for something and it's probably nothing good. All the Liban government can really do is protest." He stopped throwing files for a minute and looked to her. His face was covered in worry. "I'm destroying all the files of our Liban students, including yours. You need to get out of the country."

The Professor pointed to an envelope on his desk. "That is your allowance for this term in cash. It should be enough to bribe someone to take you out of the country and enough for a ticket back home. Now go, and be careful!"

"But what if..."

"Quickly!" The Professor urged as he put another file in the fire. "If anyone asks, I've sent you on an errand. That should be believable enough."

Sarah grabbed the envelope and left his office. She walked along, mind racing. What about her stuff? Would they hide it? Or burn it like the files? Well, since she had to walk by her room on her way out, she might as well grab her things. She didn't even make it to her room before her Paradisian tutor stopped her and handed her a book bag.

"Everything that has your name on it is in there. We'll split everything else among the other students."

"Thank you..."

"Now go but don't run. That'll attract their attention. There's a cab waiting for you. We already paid him."

Sarah nodded and walked to the cab and shut the door. He didn't even ask where she was going. Of course, there was no telling how much Aboloanian he understood either. They probably took that into consideration when hailing him.

Anxiety consumed her as the cab went along. Other than the occasional pair of Syrealian soldiers milling about, everything looked normal. Then traffic came to a halt. The cabbie craned his neck and then shook his head. Apparently, they weren't going anywhere for a while. But did she have time to waste? Perhaps it was her turn to be proactive.

She managed to ask.

The cabbie mused for a second. He pointed in the direction of the docks.

Sarah nodded and started to get out of the car.

The cabbie shrugged. He had already gotten paid, so it didn't matter to him if his passenger got out early. She shut the door and headed in that direction. The crowd would provide good cover. For she knew the closer she got to the docks, the more Syrealian soldiers there would be. But at least they wouldn't be able to tell that she was a Liban just by looking at her.