บท 277: 277

Henry's primary school class had been such a comfort bubble to him as the pieces of his parents fading relationship was exploding all around him.  There he could be anyone and be excited about anything as he was protected by all of his adoring teachers. The care that he had been shown was hard to find reciprocated in his new surroundings.  First he had lost everything he had known. Afterwards, only letters that were written mechanically in his father's business dialect that he had difficulty understanding. They were like lectures hand delivered to him in his cold dorm in Canada.  They did little to warm his already bitter heart that was dealing with so much loss.