By day sixteen, ten people were sick with influenza. By day eighteen, four of them had died.Maya stood at the makeshift morgue, looking at four new bodies wrapped in sheets. Sarah's elderly mother. One of the contractors. A young woman barely twenty-five. And James—the elected council representative who'd been voting independently.Forty-six people remained.And Catherine had exactly the death toll she'd been waiting for."Council meeting," Catherine announced that evening. "Emergency session. All shelter residents are invited to observe."Daniel grabbed Maya's arm. "This is it. She's calling the vote.""I know.""What are you going to do?"Maya looked at the shelter. At forty-six exhausted, scared, grieving people. At Catherine, who'd kept meticulous records of every death, every resource decision, every time Maya had chosen compassion over practicality."I'm going to tell the truth," Maya said. "And let them decide."The council met in the center of the shelter, everyone gathered a
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