102 A night to remember

“All of Paris is not lights and beauty. Like many cities, there is ugliness and sadness as well,” Jackson tells her quietly. “That wss a shanty development, with makeshift homes for dozens of people. They are somewhat fortunate, not alone on the streets like many, but it’s a very small improvement.” Melancholy washes over her face. “There are lots of unhoused people in New York too. I see them on the streets, sleeping in alleys, begging for food, desperate for help. There are organizations that try—soup kitchens, mobile shower units, placement assistance—but there are so many people.” “Paris is better than some, and there are many volunteer groups here as well. But still,” Jackson whispers, his voice cracking, “people die on the streets every year. Some say it’s because of migrant camps and ‘outsiders’. But it’s not true. That’s only one piece of the problem. The costs of living are rising faster than wages, and people with good jobs are being forced out on the street. Families . . .