We live thanks to the help of good people. Everything we have: blankets, mattresses and clothes, we got from neighbours or aid organisations, such as the Polish Medical Mission. To the social welfare centre run by the Association of Charity Sisters in Mafraq 53-year-old Badriyah came with her daughter. Raghad apparently looks like an ordinary teenager – she wears a pink hijab popular among young women. Her nails are painted orange. She is dressed in fashionable, embroidered jeans and shoes with sequins and a big OK inscription. But her life is far from what OK stands for. She is 13 years old, has spent half of her life in exile, does not have many friends, and never went to school, although Jordan opened primary schools for Syrian children a long time ago. She cannot write or read well. Raghad is silent as the grave. Her eyes are lowered and she is nervously turning a worn-out smartphone over in her hands. This Samsung in a white case is another illusion of normality. I wonder how an illiterate girl can surf the net. What does she watch? Does she have a Facebook and an Instagram account? And if so, what does she post there? Who does she observe? What kind of music does she listen to? – What future is there for a girl who, at 13, has never been to school? – I ask her mother, but basically I know the answer.