“They won’t get sick if we do the work,” Kristen said. “Not from mold, anyway. But there are other ways they could get sick. Hep A, cholera, typhoid fever—that shit all comes from contaminated water. Now, FEMA should be here with clean water before too long, so we just have to find ourselves some until they get here. And don’t let your kids touch anything outside. Leptospirosis comes from rat piss in the mud and dirt and can kill you.”

I saw Drusilla tense up. She looked back behind her shoulder, as if she could protect her children just with her gaze.

A man who looked to be in his late thirties spoke up.

“I’ve been doing construction work for years,” he said. “I can look around for tools, I can teach people how to rip up the carpet. I can help.”

A tiny woman wearing a filthy sari spoke up in halting English. “I don’t know how,” she said, “but I will help.”

Other people in the lobby nodded, or looked me and Kristen in the eyes. The man who had said he worked in construction clapped his hands together. The sound bounced through the big, empty lobby.

“Yes,” he said. “First we go into the apartments and look for the tools. Then we make this place ours.”

“Yes,” I said, almost in a whisper. I found Jaden a few feet away from me and slipped my arm around his waist. I squeezed him. “Ours.”

“Wait,” Jaden said. “Some of us should be slagging on the carpets and the mold, definitely. But with all of us here, the food and water in this building aren’t going to last forever. Or even very long. We have to send people out for supplies, too.”

A murmur went through the crowd as my stomach tightened. This is what I’d been afraid of, letting all these people in—all those stores of supplies being gone quicker than anything. And it was obvious that none of us wanted to go out there.

“Some of us have children to worry about,” Drusilla said. “If I go out there and don’t come back, who’s going to take care of my babies?”

I felt like snapping at her, like telling her to shut up. But someone else spoke before I could, the woman in the sari.

“You’re right,” she said. “Only people who can accept the risks should go.”

I softened then. I thought about this woman, this Drusilla. What had she been through? With the way she protected those children, had she had to fight at some time to keep them? How many people had promised her help only to give her nothing? Who the hell was I to judge her?