The residents had no choice but to accept the government's treatment, no matter how unfair it felt.
When it was her turn, Elena stepped forward and calmly handed over her ID.
The official handed her a small bag of flour—so light it could barely make one meal.
She accepted it without complaint but took a moment to observe the official.
Though they acted polite, their eyes betrayed a look of scorn, as if she were just another burden.
With a slight roll of her eyes, Elena took her ID back and walked off with the flour, quietly waiting for her husband to finish his turn.
But before she could leave, the same official called out to her again.
"Hey," he said, with a too-smooth voice.
"I can see you're struggling out here. Why not come to the evacuation centre? We can help you live better."
Well, the official had noticed her photo on the ID.
