ManyWriters

My neighbor burst into my house, his voice a mix of fear and urgency, causing my heart to race.
"Maya, there's a fire at your factory!"
Without hesitation, I grabbed the nearest jacket and rushed out. The dark plume of smoke in the distance was unmistakable.
Upon reaching the factory entrance, I found chaos. My cousin Lucia and mother-in-law Evelyn were frantically trying to open the locked electronic door. Evelyn was pounding on it, her voice hoarse from yelling.
"We need to break this door down!" Evelyn cried, tears streaming down her face as she continued to hit the door.
Beside her, Lucia paced anxiously, her face red and sweaty. She waved her arms, shouting at the growing crowd of spectators.
"There's someone inside! We have to get this door open now!"
As soon as Lucia spotted me, her eyes filled with desperation and rage. She stumbled towards me, grabbing my arm for support before pointing at the blaze.
"Harvey's trapped inside!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "You need to save your husband! You've got the card and you're the only one who knows the password!"
Sweat trickled down my neck as I looked at the burning factory. My chest felt tight, but I shook my head calmly, my voice steady amid the chaos.
"We should call the fire department for assistance," I said, taking out my phone. My fingers moved slowly across the screen, a stark contrast to the frantic atmosphere around me.
Evelyn whirled to face me, her expression contorting with rage. Her voice quivered as she pointed an accusing finger at me.
"He went in there looking for your accounting records, and now it's on fire! How can you just stand here watching? Are you even human?"
I met her gaze without flinching. Her wild eyes searched mine for any sign of emotion, but I merely shrugged, my nonchalance only fueling her anger.
"The fire's too dangerous," I stated. "What if I get injured?"

Wife's Cold Revenge in a Fiery Inferno

"Intoxicated?" The bald journalist raised an eyebrow skeptically, his tone dripping with doubt. "Are you claiming that being drunk led you to torch the factory? Didn't you previously mention going there to obtain financial records for your spouse? How does that align with being inebriated?"


Harvey squirmed uneasily on the mattress. Perspiration beaded on his brow, his digits clutching the blanket's edge as if it were a lifeline. "This... this isn't necessarily contradictory, is it?" His voice was strained, his feigned composure betraying the underlying tension.


The journalist's intense stare bore into him relentlessly. Around us, the throng muttered like an unsettled swarm, their whispers coalescing into an accusing buzz. The snapping of cameras intensified, each flash illuminating Harvey's crumbling facade.


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