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... eside the cooling shelter, using his old backpack as a pillow. The sound of voices pulled him awake—soft chatter, laughter, and the buzz of life. It wasn’t the sound of suffering anymore. It was the sound of people finally catching a breath.

He sat up slowly.

Below, the shelter glowed gently in the early morning light. Families gathered around it. Kids played near the door. A group of women were filling bottles from the water tank on the side. Someone had even plugged in a speake ...

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