Karina had spent almost a year living with her wealthy friends. After her father's funeral, her friends' mothers cooed at her that she absolutely must come stay with them for a few weeks. Everyone pitied her so much: her father's people, her friends, their mothers. Everyone wanted to help the poor little orphaned rich girl- although she was left penniless, now. Perhaps they legitimately cared for her, or perhaps they just wanted another topic for their dinner parties. But what other options did she have? In a half-dreamlike state, her life became an exercise of repeated packing and unpacking her suitcases of clothing- all donated by her friends. Her days were filled by sleeping as much as possible, with no will to do anything else. Occasionally, she'd have to make an appearance at a party thrown whoever her current host was. She'd suffer through it, then return to bed as soon as she could.

She mourned her father, but she didn't really feel... anything. Not since that night she'd run quickly out of the hotel and threw herself down on the beach, mingling her wails with the crashing surf. She didn't feel anything, that was, until one night around a year after her father's death. She'd been sleeping, as usual. She'd gone to bed by 8 on a Saturday night, as early as she could get away, and left her friends to make conversation with the various well bred young men who'd been invited. That night, though, she woke up in the early morning and heard laughter from down the hall. Quietly wrapping a robe around her nightgown, she silently padded down the hall in her bare feet. She'd always had a talent for sneaking around. What she heard caused her to freeze. Her "friends" were having a discussion- most of them in the nightgowns or robes as they lounged on pillows and sofas.

"I wonder how long we'll have to keep passing her around? She's like a disease."

"And what's her plan? Just hang out with us forever. I heard she has, like, no money at all left."

"She doesn't even do anything. Just lies around all day. I mean, obviously she's been through a lot- but c'mon. It's been a whole year."

"My father said her father was a degenerate for gambling so much. Said it's genetic and she's probably the same way. That's how these things are, you know."

Not all the girls were speaking, but many of them were. And the others weren't defending her. Karina looked down to see that she was clenching her fists so much that her fingers were turning white. She felt like screaming, but mostly she just felt... rage: pure, burning anger. She wanted to stride into that room and kick the shit out of all those girls, but that wouldn't accomplish anything. But still, she needed payback.

Moving quickly and silently, she went back to bed. That night, she lay there staring at the ceiling.

The next day, she was getting dressed in her friend's bedroom. Well, not her friend. The girl who had called her a disease. Karina had quickly skimmed through the jewelry box, picking out an emerald necklace and burying it amongst her old things. Over the next year, several people started to get increasingly suspicious of her. Maids were fired by the dozen. Occasionally, someone burst into her room to try to catch her. Or go through her luggage to "help her organize things", not knowing about the secret compartment she'd broken and reattached in the bottom. But, officially, nothing stuck to Karina- at least not yet. Perhaps the pitiable character of the orphan offered her a modicum of protection. Perhaps it was her father's ghost, guilting his friends. Or perhaps was just too naturally skilled to be caught. Either way, she was surreptitiously pawning these things whenever she could get into the city, sneaking away from shopping excursions. This couldn't last forever; when she had enough money, she'd be gone. Her most recent haul was her most memorable. Not only had she received more money than ever to add to the rolled up pile in her sock, buried in her luggage, but she also read in the paper that the man who'd killed her father was dead. She never forgot the name or the face. He was one of several big shots wiped out in some gang war in New York. Seeing the news, she broke into a genuine smile for the first time in a year.