When the Signal Dies, Love Is Logistics—and Every Choice Has a Cost

”

He opened his mouth again, but the older woman with the rough hands cut in.

“Honey,” she said to him, not unkindly, “you ever been hungry with two kids and one can of soup?”

He blinked, caught off guard.

“You don’t split it into twenty portions,” she continued. “You make sure they live. Then you figure out tomorrow.”

The beanie guy looked away, jaw tight.continue reading …