The town hall meeting was a disaster.
Elena had called it to calm the town down. Instead, it had become a shouting match. The townspeople were angry. They wanted the refugees gone. They wanted answers. They wanted someone to blame.
"We're not safe!" a woman shouted. "They're carrying a disease! We need to quarantine them!"
"They've already been quarantined," Elena said. "That's what the community center is for."
"That's not enough! They need to be sent back!"
"They can't go back. The rift is closed."
The crowd erupted. People were shouting, pushing, shoving. Elena tried to calm them down, but it was no use. The meeting had descended into chaos.
And then someone threw a punch.
Elena saw it happen. A man from the crowd—a local named Frank—had swung at one of the refugees who had come to the meeting. The refugee dodged, but Frank didn't stop. He swung again.
Elena pushed through the crowd. "Stop! Everyone stop!"
But no one listened. The crowd was fighting now—townspeople against refugees, neighbors against neighbors. Elena tried to separate them, but she was pushed back.
A fist caught her in the face. She staggered. Her lip split. She tasted blood.
"Stop!" she shouted again. But no one heard her.
Elena drew her weapon. She fired into the air.
The crack of the gunshot silenced the crowd. Everyone froze. Elena stood in the middle of the room, her weapon raised, her face bloodied.
"Everyone, sit down," she said. "Now."
The crowd obeyed. They were still angry, but they were no longer violent. Elena scanned the room.
"Frank," she said. "You're under arrest."
Frank stared at her. "What? I didn't do anything!"
"You assaulted a refugee. I saw you."
"I was defending myself!"
"You were defending yourself from a man who was trying to leave the room. I saw that too."
Frank opened his mouth to argue. But Elena's expression stopped him. He looked at her face. He looked at her eyes. He swallowed. Then he nodded.
Elena cuffed him. She led him out of the room. The crowd watched in silence.
"Sheriff?" It was Ray. He'd followed her out. "That was a bold move."
Elena looked at him. "I had no choice."
"You could have let it slide. Let him go."
"I know."
Ray studied her. "You've changed, Elena."
Elena looked at her hands. They were shaking. She hid them.
"Maybe I have."
Elena was in her office when Father Gabriel came to see her. He was a gentle man, with a kind face and tired eyes. He'd been the town priest for thirty years, and he knew everyone in Tillamook by name.
"I heard about the meeting," Father Gabriel said. "And the arrest."
Elena nodded. "It had to be done."
"I know," Father Gabriel said. "But the town is scared. They're looking for a leader. They're looking for hope."
Elena sighed. "I don't know if I can give them hope. I don't know if I have any myself."
Father Gabriel smiled — a tired, gentle smile. "You don't have to give them hope, Sheriff. You just have to give them direction. One step at a time."
Elena looked at him. "You make it sound so simple."
"Because it is," Father Gabriel said. "You just have to take the first step."
Elena was on her way home when she got the call. It was Isaac.
"The fisherman," Isaac said. "The one who attacked the refugees. He's sick."
Elena felt her stomach drop. "The prion?"
"I think so. It's different from the refugees' strain — more aggressive. It's like it's already started mutating."
Elena drove to the hospital. She found Bill in a quarantine room, his face pale, his eyes glassy.
"I can't... I can't remember..." Bill's voice was weak. "I can't remember why I came here."
Elena approached him carefully. "It's okay," she said. "You're sick. But we're going to help you."
Bill shook his head. "No... no, you don't understand. I saw it... I saw the light... in the water... I touched it..."
"Touched what?"
Bill tried to answer. But his eyes rolled back in his head. He collapsed. He stopped breathing.
The nurses rushed in. They tried to revive him. But it was too late. Bill was dead.
Elena stared at his body. His eyes were open. His mouth was frozen in a scream.
She looked at Isaac. "He's the first," she said.
Isaac nodded. "He won't be the last."
The town was terrified.
Elena walked through the streets that night. The windows were dark. The doors were locked. People were hiding in their homes, afraid of what might be coming.
She found Ray standing in the middle of the street. He was holding a shotgun.
"Ray," she said. "What are you doing?"
"Keeping watch," Ray said. "Someone has to."
Elena studied him. "You're scared."
"I'm terrified," Ray admitted. "I saw what happened to Bill. I don't want to end up like that."
Elena didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say.
"I should be home with Maya," Ray said. "But I can't. I have to do this."
Elena nodded. "I know. I feel the same way."
Elena was back at the community center when she heard the scream.
She ran. A refugee was in the bathroom, his wrists slit, blood pooling on the floor. He was barely conscious.
"Get Isaac!" Elena shouted. "Now!"
She knelt beside the refugee. She pressed her hands against his wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. His eyes were open, but they were distant.
"Why did you do this?" Elena asked. "Why?"
The refugee looked at her. His lips moved. "I don't want to forget. I don't want to end up like Miriam."
Isaac arrived. He pushed Elena aside and went to work. He stopped the bleeding. He stabilized the refugee.
"He's going to be okay," Isaac said. "But he needs to be watched. Someone needs to stay with him."
Elena nodded. "I'll do it."
She sat beside the refugee. She held his hand. She didn't let go.
The refugee's name was Amir. He was twenty-five years old. He'd been a teacher in the future. He'd watched his parents forget their names. He'd watched them die.
"I couldn't do it," Amir said. "I couldn't watch it happen again."
Elena looked at him. "You don't have to do this alone," she said. "We're all in this together."
Amir shook his head. "You don't understand. You don't know what it's like. To watch someone you love forget who you are. To watch them die alone."
"I do," Elena said quietly. "I watched my son die. He was six years old. He had a genetic condition that the doctors couldn't fix. I held his hand as he took his last breath. He didn't know who I was at the end. He just... looked at me. Like I was a stranger."
Amir stared at her. "How did you get through it?"
Elena thought about it. "I didn't. Not really. I just... kept going. Because I had to. For the people who were still here."
Amir was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"I'll try," he said. "I'll try to keep going."
Elena squeezed his hand. "That's all any of us can do."
Elena walked through the community center that night. The refugees were quiet, huddled together, afraid. The townspeople were afraid. Everyone was afraid.
She found Isaac in the lab, staring at the blood samples again.
"Amir will be okay," Elena said. "Thanks to you."
Isaac nodded. "I just did what I had to do."
Elena studied him. "You look exhausted."
"I haven't slept in three days," Isaac admitted. "Every time I close my eyes, I see the samples. I see the prion. I see it spreading."
Elena sat down across from him. "We're going to get through this."
Isaac looked at her. "Are you sure?"
"No," Elena admitted. "But I have to believe it. Because if I don't, I'll fall apart. And I can't afford to fall apart."
Isaac nodded. "I know what you mean."
They sat in silence for a long moment.
Then Elena stood up. "Get some sleep, Isaac. You can't help anyone if you're dead on your feet."
Isaac smiled — a tired, weary smile. "I'll try."
Elena walked out of the lab. She walked through the community center. She walked past the refugees, past the deputies, past the fear and the pain and the exhaustion.
She walked to the window. She looked out at the ocean. The moon was hidden behind clouds. The water was dark and restless.
She thought about Bill. She thought about Amir. She thought about her son, Gabriel, and the day she'd held him as he died.
She thought about Maya. She thought about Ray. She thought about the refugees.
And she thought about what Father Gabriel had said: "You don't have to give them hope. You just have to give them direction. One step at a time."
She didn't know if she could give them direction. She didn't know if she had the strength.
But she knew she didn't have a choice.
She looked at her hands. They were shaking.
She hid them.
END OF EPISODE 4