The workers reached Ashford before the replenishment wagon.
Lyra saw the first family from the supply board: two adults, three children, a bundle of bedding and a tool chest carried between them. More people followed around the bend. Some had carts. Most had whatever they could hold.
The goods lane was already narrow with a late receiving load.
She went down before anyone tried to make one queue serve two purposes.
“Separate entrance,” she told the gate crew. “Shelter inquiries through the relief yard. Keep this lane for the cart.”
The custodian came with the current count.
Not last week’s hopeful estimate. Not even the stock inspected three days earlier. Material had been issued. Food had been used. The expected delivery remained an expectation.
A supporter read the sheet over her shoulder.
