Tears are rolling down her cheeks, and while she manages to sit up, she’s gasping for breath. “It—it hurts.”

“Bring her to the infirmary.” Case’s voice, behind me. He’s picked up his tray and brought it back to the serving counter. His eyes find mine but for a heartbeat.

I nod. I find my own voice. Because this is what we do now too. “Come on, she needs medical attention. We need to get her to infirmary.”

Unexpectedly, it took longer for people to volunteer for cooking. The girls who shared a table with Aleesha walk around it to help her up, but Walker and Khalil get there first. As if in tandem, they reach down and pull her gently to her feet, offer her support on either side.

At one of the other tables, Sofia leaps up and—once Aleesha and the boys have made their way past her—beelines for the kitchen. “I’ll clean up. Everyone keep their distance,” she states.

Her actions are brisk and brook no discussion. Nia immediately steps back and lets her enter to grab water and detergent and sponges.

I was afraid of desperation, but tonight, here at the end of the world, we find determination instead.

Aleesha manages to stumble to the door, supported by Walker and Khalil. She sways back and forth between them. Her head lolls. Her lithe dancer’s frame strains under the weight of her racking coughs. No blood yet, but judging by the sound of her gasping breaths, that’s only a matter of time.

Casey is already running toward the infirmary to prepare a bed for her.

Phone call between Walker and his mother

MRS. GREEN: Walker?

WALKER: Hi, Mom.

MRS. GREEN: I…I didn’t think you’d call home.

WALKER: I didn’t mean to, but with everything… How are you? How’s Dad? How’s Tibby?

MRS. GREEN: Tibby’s okay. The school’s closed, so she spends her days up in her room on her computer and chatting with her friends. They’re playing this type of game together… I don’t know what it is, but it’s distracting her. At least this way, she isn’t scared mindless like the rest of us.

WALKER: That’s good, isn’t it?

MRS. GREEN: Yeah. I hope so.

WALKER: Is it as bad out there as they say it is?

MRS. GREEN: I don’t know what they’re saying, Walker.

WALKER: Just that…it’s everywhere. People are dying.

MRS. GREEN: Ah.

MRS. GREEN: I imagine it will blow over in time. People talk so much.

WALKER: I guess. How are you and Dad?

MRS. GREEN: I’m doing okay. I’ve been meeting up with Mrs. Davis from across the road and Mrs. McCoy. We are under lockdown orders, of course, but they can’t expect us all to stay home indefinitely. We need company to find solace with each other.

WALKER: Solace? Why—

MRS. GREEN: You know your dad regretted turning you in, don’t you? He spoke about it often. He believed he did the right thing, but maybe we’ve been too harsh. Once he recovers, the two of you should talk.