He found Nephertarie, a girl of 13, in the slums, working with her mother. She had known his face some years ago, but had almost forgotten it. Her face lit up.
"Baptiste!" Seeing Jean Baptiste standing in the doorway of their hut, the girls mother began to cry out.
"What is wrong mother?" the girl asked cautiously.
"He comes. He comes to take you from me!"
Jean Baptiste had been her friend, her father figure growing up. She had not seen him for a long time, but still her trust for him was strong. If he wanted her to go with him, she shall. Her mother weeped at their doorstep, fell to her knees and begged him to spare her daughter. But a promise had been made, and a promise must always be kept.
...
As they docked in the American port, the girl began to shake with both nerves and excitement. She was ready for the next chapter of her life, and apparently that started with a new name.
"No Americans will be able to pronounce your name. From now on, you're... Claudette."
