At 7:12 on a bright Saturday morning, Maya stood in the driveway of her family’s Pasadena bungalow, staring at a mountain of debris that seemed to have appeared overnight. A cracked bookcase leaned against the garage. Flattened cardboard hid beneath old paint cans, and a sagging sofa blocked the path to the gate. Beyond it all, the San Gabriel Mountains caught the sunrise in a pale wash of gold.
