Read Chapter 21: — A BED FOR STRANGERS

The city reached its worst week in January.

St Anne's opened temporary wards. Elective procedures stopped. Schools became distribution points. Hotels offered rooms to clinical staff who could not safely return to vulnerable families.

Maya's response team began checking on people every day instead of every three days.

Peter Lang, the widower who had once refused groceries, now called the team office to ask who else needed help.

"I have a car I can't drive anywhere," he said. "Can I lend it to one of your volunteers?"

Maya laughed.

"See? That's how it starts."

"How what starts?"

"The sentimental television advert."

He had no idea what she meant.

That evening, the first confirmed case appeared among the Ravensbridge Line drivers.

Jamie.

He had a fever of 39.1 and had lost his sense of smell.

The group chat went silent after he posted the result.

Then messages arrived so quickly they became unreadable.

Food. Medicine. Offers to call his mother. Offers to cover his rota. Jokes. Bad jokes. Terrible jokes.

Jamie replied:

STOP BEING NICE. IT'S DISGUSTING.

Ethan laughed, then sat on the edge of the bed and cried.

Maya sat beside him.

Neither pretended it was only about Jamie.