Lazcano, who has short dark hair and a serene demeanor, shares a one-bedroom apartment with her husband and two daughters, aged thirteen and nineteen. In the last week of January, her younger daughter, Michelle, tested positive for the virus. Lazcano, who is diabetic, lost her sense of taste within three days. Red bumps appeared across her chest and on the back of her head. Her toes turned purple, her eyes and legs grew swollen, and she found herself gasping for air. But she hesitated to go to the hospital. After losing her day job as a cleaning lady, last spring, Lazcano had stopped paying rent—she owed her landlord more than fourteen thousand dollars, and her bills kept piling up. As her symptoms dragged on for months, she grew increasingly fearful. Under the impression that it might help, she finally decided to try the vaccine. “It’s like when people ask, ‘How would you like to be martyred,’ ” she said, in half jest, referring to a Mexican refrain. “