W hen Reham Alkahlout, a mother of four, scours the markets in Al-Nasr, Gaza, she is gripped by a gnawing anxiety spurred by rows of scarce stalls, the acrid scent of burnt wood and plastic, and a scattering of overpriced essentials—if any are available at all. Once vibrant with produce and daily bustle, markets have been hollowed out by months of siege, bombardment, and economic collapse. Since Israeli forces resumed offensive operations on March 18, the price of flour has climbed by 5,000