"You..." she sputtered, barely able to form the words. "What kind of excuse is that? You're afraid of getting hurt? My son's risking his life for your damned records and you just... don't care? Like it's nothing to you?"
Lucia's face turned a deep crimson, a stark contrast to the white of her clenched knuckles. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.
"Maya, Harvey is in there!" she shouted, her voice shrilled with desperation. "He's your husband! How can you stand here and act like this doesn't matter? What is wrong with you?"
"I've already called the fire department," I replied evenly, holding up my phone. "They'll be here soon. Don't worry—they'll put the fire out."
Lucia took a step closer, her eyes burning with disbelief and frustration. "Do you even hear yourself?" she began. "Your husband's life is hanging by a thread and all you can say is to wait?"
"What else can I do?" I asked, my tone flat, unmoved. "Do you want me to run in there and die with him? That wouldn't save anyone."
"Open the door! Now!" Lucia shouted, her voice laced with frustration. "The fire trucks will take forever! Can't you understand? It's a life! Your husband's life! How can you just stand there?"
"You venomous woman! Are you trying to kill my son?" Evelyn shrieked, her hand a blur as she lunged to slap me. I quickly moved out of the way.
"I'm not trying to kill him," I explained calmly. "But I'm not a firefighter. I can't put out that fire. Going in would be suicide."
Our argument caught the attention of the onlookers, who had gathered to watch the fire. Some of them pulled out their phones and began recording or live-streaming the scene.
Noticing this, Evelyn turned to the crowd and shouted, "Look at her! My son is in there and she won't open the door to save him! Isn't she heartless? Evil? Oh... my son!"
Lucia grabbed my arm then, her nails digging sharply into my skin. She shook me roughly, her face close to mine as she spat out her words.
"Did you two fight? Is that why you're doing this?" Her voice dropped, low and angry. "Do you want him to die? Is that what you want, Maya?"
I yanked my arm free, the sting lingering where her nails had bitten in. My face remained impassive.
"You're overreacting," I said softly.