HENRY FOLDED a shirt and set it neatly on the small pile of others in his new suitcase. A satchel, Hatter called it. It was brown leather and had straps to hold it closed. It was extremely old-fashioned, but all he could find in the shops outside of the Red Castle. He went to the narrow chest of drawers and removed two pairs of pants, but when he turned back to the suitcase, it was empty. He turned to see Hatter replacing his shirts in a dresser drawer. Grabbing the shirts out of the drawer, he held them behind his back so Hatter couldn’t reclaim them. “Hatter! I keep packing, and you keep unpacking. I’m never going to get done this way.” “That’s the whole point. Besides, you don’t need to pack. You’re not really leaving.” Henry sighed, and sat down on the foot of his bed. “Hatter, it’s been three months. I have to go back now.” “Why? You like it here, don’t you?
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