“You’re siding with her because she’s a state official.”

Lena looked at him with something close to disbelief.

“You think my title is the important part? My mother is on one of those buses. My old neighbors are carrying medical equipment through floodwater. One of your security officers used my arrival information to get me detained before I could check this gate. Tell me who provided that information, Mr. Voss.”

He said nothing.

“Was that a mistake in the document control process, too?”

Elaine lifted a hand. “That question goes to investigators. We have an active emergency to manage.”

The county field crew called with the result of its inspection. The old basin could be used under the specified conditions. Authorized personnel were standing by. The relief route would reduce pressure on the west channel, though nobody could promise it would prevent all flooding.

The incident commander approved the measure and the gate crew began its work.

Voss took one step toward Lena.

“You will ruin everything we’ve built.”

She looked beyond him, toward the river, where the red line had disappeared under muddy water.

“Everything you built isn’t the same thing as everyone who lives here.”

Chapter Nine: Six Inches of Difference

At 6:13, the river reached the forecast crest.

The floodgate crew had finished its assigned work under a safety supervisor. Gate Seven was now in the verified position specified by Incident Command. The emergency relief basin had begun accepting water. Pumps worked against a volume greater than the city’s plans had anticipated.

For six minutes, the control room’s physical markers continued to rise.

Nobody spoke much.

Lena stood beside the wall, watching numbers relayed by crews in the field. Frank held a wet clipboard. The county engineer compared notes with the incident commander. The green screen over the old control panel remained dark after its unreliable input had been isolated.

Then the downstream rise slowed.

It did not stop everywhere. Maple Street still flooded. Several ground-floor apartments took in water. A retaining wall beside an empty workshop failed, sending debris into a closed parking area. The shelter kitchen lost power and had to move its food to another building.

But the water at Willow Court’s main entrance stopped climbing before it reached the first residential floor.

Lena looked at the staff report, then asked for another reading.

Frank checked the radio, waited, and repeated the number back.

It was lower by half an inch.

He looked up at her.

“That counts?”

“Not yet.”

A second reading followed five minutes later.

Another half inch.

Frank exhaled, a long sound that seemed to come from somewhere inside his boots.

“Now?”

Lena leaned against the counter. Her legs felt suddenly weak.