The bus left with empty seats because a father could not prove his name quickly enough.
Tessa stood beside the checkpoint desk, holding the number the neighborhood organizer had given her. It described a family seeking transport, not a clearance. The father had lost his papers in a breach. His daughter had a record the official accepted. She kept one hand locked around his coat while the driver watched the departure clock.
“She can board,” the official said.
“Not without me,” the father answered.
“I wasn’t speaking for her.”
The girl pulled harder on the coat.
Tessa asked which exception applied to lost documents. The official produced a form and pointed toward a separate review line. It ran past the shade and around a supply vehicle. People there had already begun sitting on the curb.
“How long is the review?”
