In the time CNN has spent on the ground, we have met families who have fought the system to try and force change. We've talked to moms and dads worrying about the health of their kids. And we've profiled residents who are trying to make sure they leave behind a town for the next generation better than it is now.
These are the stories and people that have captured our attention and heartstrings along the way:
Five weeks into her pregnancy, Nakiya Wakes dreams of a growing family came crashing down. She was rushed to the hospital and told she had a miscarriage. At a follow-up appointment, her doctor detected a second heartbeat -- she had been pregnant with twins.
She had another miscarriage in her second trimester.
Returning from the hospital devastated, she opened a piece of mail that stopped her in her tracks.
"I see something from the city of Flint saying that pregnant women and people 55 and over should not be drinking this water," Wakes said. "I was like are you serious, and I'm just coming home to losing my babies? And now just, it could have been the water that did this?"
No one knows for sure. But Wakes and her children are part of a growing number of families who say they are the human toll of Flint's water crisis. As many as 10% to 20% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage.
Children of Flint: Inheriting anxiety, giving up hope
Eight-year-old Nadia Baylor sits on the floor in her home in Flint playing with her toys, giggling and chattering -- until she talks about the water.
"This water is poison," she says, without skipping a beat. "If I drink it, I going to die and I don't want to die. Nobody want to die."
Nadia's mother and others across the city say they repeatedly, bluntly tell their children they can't drink the lead-tainted water that flow through their homes.
A Flint childhood now means carrying the weight of tainted water, of parents' fears, of policies failed. The city is a shell of its former self, a prosperous, manufacturing stronghold that's now struggling to retain its residents.
And the water is just the latest in a long assault on the town, and these are the children who will inherit it.
Living with lead poisoning and uncertainty, long-term
Aaron Stinson does whatever he can to stay healthy. He exercises regularly. He avoids sweets. He drinks only water.
"I consume a lot of water. I try to live a healthy lifestyle so I try not to drink too much pop," Stinson said.
The problem is Stinson lives in Flint, and the water he constantly consumed for his health may hurt it -- permanently and for generations to come.
He is one of many Flint residents who tested positive for lead exposure.
Scientists consider less than 10 micrograms per deciliter of lead in the blood "normal" for adults. Stinson's blood tested at more than two times that, at 27.
"Putting water in my body is something that is supposed to be pure," Stinson said. "It is a little hard for me to wrap my mind around it."