Chapter 4 — Aftermath

Victoria Hayes

The air inside the evacuation center was suffocating, a pungent mix of antiseptic, sweat, and the raw desperation of hundreds of displaced people. Victoria Hayes stood frozen in the middle of the crowded space, clutching the strap of her soot-streaked designer tote bag, her knuckles white. The bag thudded against her hip with each step she’d taken, its contents—jewelry, photographs, and fragments of a life now burned away—a hollow weight. Around her, the world moved in a dizzying blur. Children cried in jagged bursts, their wails merging with the harsh coughs of the elderly. Volunteers in brightly colored vests rushed past, their voices sharp with urgency, the flurry of their activity making her feel even more alien in this chaotic microcosm.