I Did Nothing When My Husband Was Locked In a Burning Building

There was no hatred between me and my husband. On the contrary, our relationship was quite good. We had been together since university, going from school uniforms to wedding attire. After five years together, he had always treated me well.

The reason I had been able to run the factory my parents left me so successfully was also thanks to his considerable help. I remembered the nights we spent planning, his patient voice as he broke down financial strategies for me and the way he reassured me when I doubted myself. Honestly, I was quite grateful to him. At one point, I genuinely believed he was my destined soulmate.

But now, looking back, I realize how pathetically naive I was...

More people had gathered, their murmurs filling the air like buzzing insects. Some of them, upon hearing what Evelyn and Lucia were saying, began to chime in, their voices dripping with blame and disdain.

"It's simply too dangerous," I said, my tone even. I crossed my arms, turning slightly away from Evelyn's gaze. "If I go in there, I'll die."

The words were barely out of my mouth when Evelyn erupted, "Did you hear that? Did you hear what she just said? Is she even human?"

"How can you be so heartless?" Lucia interjected, her voice trembling with both frustration and grief. She took a shaky step closer, her dark eyes shining with tears as she stared me down. "If it weren't for you insisting on getting the accounting records, would your husband have gone in? He's inside because of you, trying to retrieve those records. Now the factory is on fire, he's trapped and you're just standing here acting indifferent. Do you even have a conscience?"

Lucia's words struck the crowd like a match thrown onto dry grass. The murmurs grew louder, more accusatory.

"If you don't unlock that door, he'll burn alive! Are you just going to let him die?"

"I think she's hoping my son dies!" Evelyn screamed suddenly. Her eyes blazed with such hatred that, for a moment, I thought she might lunge at me again. "Now that I think about it, I don't even believe the factory fire was an accident. Who's to say she didn't set it herself?"

At this, the crowd erupted into chaos.

"What?" a man exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at me. Others exchanged uneasy glances, their whispers growing louder.

"If that's true, I suggest you call the police. This could be murder!"

"Yeah! Call the police immediately! Who knows if her husband is already dead in there?"

"This is terrifying—murdering her own husband? That's a crime! You must report it!"

"Did the husband have life insurance?" someone asked suspiciously, their voice low but loud enough for the others to hear. "Why is the wife acting so calm? Could this be... planned?"

"Madam, you should call the police right away."

"Yes, call the police!"

The collective weight of their accusations pressed against me like a storm surge. Evelyn hesitated, clearly bolstered by the mob-like fervor of the crowd. Her eyes bore into mine with a loathing I had never seen before.

"Maya, what do you say?" she hissed, her voice thick with venom. "Should I call the police? Don't come crying and begging for mercy later!"

I met her gaze evenly, my face an expressionless mask. The tension between us stretched taut, broken only by Lucia's furious shout.

"What is this?" Lucia screamed. She turned sharply toward the crowd, her eyes blazing with frustration. "Now isn't the time for police or some conspiracy theories! We're wasting time! We need to save him!"

The crowd fell into a brief, stunned silence. Some lowered their phones, shifting awkwardly as if realizing how absurd the scene had become.

Lucia spun back toward me, her lips trembling with suppressed fury. "I'm asking you—are you going to use the card to open the door or not?"

I paused, then slowly reached into my bag, my movements deliberate. Pulling the access card out, I held it out toward her. "If you're in such a hurry, you go open it."

Lucia stared at me as though I had slapped her. Her mouth opened slightly, disbelief flickering across her face. "How... how can you be like this? I thought you loved Harvey! He gave you everything, he loved you! And... this is how you repay him? With complete indifference? You're unbelievable."

I looked at her calmly, my voice devoid of emotion. "So? Are you going in or not? What's the hold-up? You have the card. Or are you scared too?"

Lucia let out a cold snort, grabbed the access card and snapped, "What's there to be afraid of? I'll go! I'm not a heartless monster like you!"

Her bravado faltered as she turned toward the blazing factory. Her shoulders stiffened and she swallowed hard as the sheer heat rolled over her, nearly forcing her back.

A group of bystanders moved to help her. "Here—soak this cloth in water," one man said, rushing forward with a bucket. "Wrap it around your face."

Another person handed her a soaked jacket. "This will help protect you from the flames."

Pale and breathing unevenly, Lucia forced herself to cover her mouth and nose with the damp cloth. Her trembling hand fumbled for the access card, swiping it quickly through the reader. Then, she punched in the security code on the keypad.

With a sharp click, the lock gave way and Lucia thrust the door open. A wave of searing heat blasted outward, but with a determined cry, she plunged inside.