Iyisha counted the cans twice.
There were eleven cans of sardines, six cans of corned beef, three cans of mushrooms, and two cans without labels. One had rust eating along the rim. She pushed that one aside.
Marybeth sat across from her on the floor with a dull knife in one hand and a torn cardboard box between her knees. She sorted the water bottles by weight, shaking each one close to her ear before putting it with the others.
"Sixteen good bottles," Marybeth said. "Three half full. One smells musty."
Marybeth twisted the cap back on and set it near the door.
"But we can still use it for washing."
Iyisha nodded and marked the count on the back of an old flyer. Her fingers felt stiff. Malcolm and the others had dragged everything back in torn bags, pillowcases, and one cracked plastic bin they found under a desk.
It was not enough.
It was still more than they had yesterday.
