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In the chaos of falling BPA-free plastic, Elias snatched the tin and bolted through the "Employees Only" door. He hit the night air running, the dented metal pressed against his chest like a heartbeat. He didn't care about the vouchers or the silver. He just cared about the 3:00 AM feeding that, for one more week, wouldn't be silent.
In the year 2029, after the Great Supply Collapse, Enfamil and Similac were traded like spice on the Silk Road. Elias was a "Runner"—a man hired by desperate parents to find the last remaining stock in shuttered retail husks.
He reached the back shelf. His flashlight beam hit a single, dented tin of hypoallergenic formula hidden behind a display of organic teething wafers. He exhaled, his breath misting in the cold air of the unheated store.
He wasn’t there for the strollers or the tiny, overpriced socks. He was there for the "Gold."