Sierra decided the drive to town was worth the risk. The kids would be thrilled if she came home with fruits, vegetables, and fresh milk. Okay, maybe not the vegetables, but perhaps she’d get lucky and find some bacon. Toilet tissue would be a bonus. As she walked past the park near the grocery store, she paused. Her face warmed, and she found herself mesmerized and tormented by the families waiting to be processed. Long lines, like the ones in the park, spread out across the country as anxious, tired, hungry families made a final attempt to get their household IDs before the quarantine began. Without them, they would not receive food or medical rations. How many would suffer because of her cowardice? Dozens of children hovered close to their parents or lay asleep on the ground when they should be running around or playing on the teeter-totter. Thousands would soon go to bed hungry, but she won’t be doing without. Ashamed, she sat on a bench and watched. The audience of The Sierra Nicole Show perceived her as a strong-willed woman with a tenacious appetite for being in control. They didn’t associate the political talk show host who treasured shredding a politician’s confidence with the philanthropist who championed the poor, the unfortunate, and the oppressed. The real Sierra had a gentle soul and found it difficult to disregard a begging hand or a pair of woeful eyes. Suffering was unacceptable. She’d emptied her wallet on more than one occasion after stopping to talk to a street beggar or homeless person, and her home would have resembled an animal shelter if not for the long hours she dedicated to her TV show.