At that moment, the fire truck screeched to a halt. The firefighters leapt into action with practiced precision. Thick hoses uncoiled like serpents and water gushed out in powerful arcs.

The firefighters, clad in heavy gear, moved swiftly and with purpose. Two of them disappeared into the factory, while others continued battling the fire.

When the two firefighters led the Harvey and Lucia out of the factory, the crowd burst into cheers. Even those who had been filming and livestreaming let out shouts of joy, their phones trembling in their hands as they documented the moment.

I stood apart from the chaos, my arms crossed as I watched. My eyes followed Harvey as he stumbled forward, supported by Lucia, who gritted her teeth with effort.

"Harvey!" Evelyn's cry pierced the air. She surged through the crowd and threw herself into Harvey's arms, embracing him tightly. "My son! You've suffered so much!" Cupping his face in her trembling hands, tears streamed down her own as she choked out, "Look at you... look at what you've been through. I thought I'd lost you!" She then dissolved into uncontrollable sobs.

Then, with sudden viciousness, Evelyn's gaze snapped to me. Her finger shot out, trembling with rage as she pointed straight at me. "You! You don't know how much he's suffered! He was trapped in there and you, his wife, wouldn't even open the door!"

The crowd stirred uneasily, murmurs rippling through them like a rising tide. "Look at the kind of woman he married!" Evelyn's voice cut through the growing unease. "She's just standing there, waiting for him to die!"

Several people turned their cameras toward me, their lenses gleaming with the eagerness to capture my reaction. I could feel their eyes bore into me—cold, accusing, relentless. I stood still, my face an unreadable mask, refusing to shrink under their stares.

"Come on, everyone, take a good look at this heartless woman!" a man shouted.

"She wouldn't even unlock the door!" another voice added, laced with disgust.

"This is horrifying. She probably hoped her husband would burn to death in there."

"She's probably got another man," someone muttered darkly. "Why else would she act like this?"

The whispers swelled, a torrent of cruel accusations, each one more ridiculous and cutting than the last. Harvey, still leaning heavily on Lucia, lifted his head slightly. His face was pale, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. He stared at me, his expression a mixture of confusion and pain.

"Maya..." His voice was weak, barely audible over the crowd's noise. Lucia, her arm still supporting him, looked at me with bitter scorn.

"If I had been a moment later," she spat out, her tone sharp, "he might've been burned alive. If he'd died, would you have been satisfied then?"

"Hmph! I think she's been plotting to kill my son all along!" Evelyn shrieked, her face contorted with rage. Her wild eyes darted between me and the crowd as though searching for allies. "Who knows what kind of woman she really is? That fire—maybe she set it herself!"

Harvey blinked weakly, his lips curving into a faint, bitter smile. "Maya... I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "I couldn't get the accounting records. This whole thing is just an accident. I don't blame you. You don't need to feel guilty."

Evelyn's head whipped around. "After everything that's happened, you're still defending her?" she screeched. Her voice cracked with disbelief. "Worried she'll feel guilty? Let me tell you—she won't! She doesn't care. She refused to help you, do you understand? She stood there and watched! She said she was afraid of getting hurt! Do you think a woman like that would ever feel guilty?"

The crowd rippled again, their disdain thick in the air.

Finally, a middle-aged woman stepped out of the crowd and approached me, her expression caught between confusion and contempt. "I don't get it," she said, her voice firm. "Your husband is still speaking up for you. You don't seem like the kind of couple who'd fall apart. Or is it..." She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. "Do you hate your husband?"

I shook my head slowly, my voice soft but clear. "Actually, I love him very much."

The woman froze, stunned by my words. Her brows furrowed and she blinked at me as if trying to decipher a riddle. "If you love your husband and your relationship with him seems good, then why..."

"Stop it," Harvey murmured, his voice faltering. His eyes fluttered closed and his body slumped suddenly, all strength leaving him.

"Harvey? Harvey!" Evelyn shrieked, her hands shaking him as panic filled her voice. "My son! My son, what's wrong? You can't leave us! Please, I'm begging you! Somebody, help us! Save him!"

Evelyn's wails rang out as Harvey's unconscious body sagged against her. People in the crowd gasped, shouting for someone to call an ambulance. A few people rushed forward to help, but Evelyn clung to Harvey desperately, nearly pulling him to the ground.

I stepped forward instinctively, reaching a hand out toward Harvey, but Lucia spun toward me, her face a mask of fury.

"Don't you dare act like you care now!" she hissed, shoving me roughly aside. Her eyes, dark with disdain, burned into mine.

The wail of sirens cut through the tension as an ambulance screeched to a stop. Paramedics poured out, expertly navigating the chaos as they reached for Harvey and loaded him onto the stretcher.

I took a step to follow them into the ambulance, but Evelyn turned sharply, her tear-streaked face blazing with hatred.

"Stay away from him!" she snapped, her voice shaking. Lucia blocked my path as well, stepping between me and the open ambulance doors.

"Don't even bother. You're useless. I've had enough of you," Lucia snapped coldly. Her face was twisted in disgust.

"Why are you still here?" Evelyn shrieked, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. She stomped towards me, her eyes bulging with fury. "Do you want him to suffer more?" She shoved me hard, her bony hands digging into my shoulders.

"You're just here to hurt him more, aren't you?" she spat, her breath hot on my face. "I won't let a viper like you anywhere near my son again!" Her chest heaved with rage as she continued, her voice reaching a near-scream, "I will see to it that my son divorces you. We're done with you. Get away from us!"

I glanced at Harvey, lying unconscious, then met her gaze, my face expressionless. My voice was low and even. "That's not up to you, is it? And you might be surprised what your son wants."

Evelyn's face twisted into an expression of pure fury, her cheeks blotchy and red. Her eyes widened. "What did you just say?!" she screeched, her voice cracking. She took a step forward, but Lucia held her back, whispering something into her ear, though her sharp glare never left me.

Nearby, several bystanders gathered closer, their phones still raised, capturing every detail of the confrontation. The red and white lights of the ambulance reflected on their faces, making their expressions of ridicule and judgment look even more exaggerated.

"Did you hear what she just said? How can she be so sure her husband won't divorce her?" someone muttered loudly.

"Does she think her husband can't live without her?" another voice chimed in, dripping with sarcasm.

"Ugh, shameless. How dare she say something like that?"

"Maybe she's got some dirt on him? That poor man is probably being blackmailed into staying with her," a man said, shaking his head disapprovingly.

Their words blended together into a cacophony of scorn and judgment, but I didn't flinch. I met their stares head-on. What did their opinions matter? They were just bystanders—strangers who thrived on spectacle. The storm of accusations and rumors they'd help spread didn't frighten me. In fact, it was exactly what I wanted.

***

The next day, the factory fire made it into the local headlines, but the focus quickly shifted. The videos of me allegedly refusing to use the key to save Harvey had gone viral overnight. Media outlets feasted on the scandal, plastering headlines across every platform: [Heartless Wife Leaves Husband to Burn?]

Online, comments poured in like venom.

[Monster!]

[Cold-blooded snake. If I were her husband, I'd leave her immediately!]

[She's clearly hiding something. Check her bank accounts and lovers—bet there's a man in the picture.]

Fabricated stories surfaced soon after. Opportunistic men, seeing a chance for attention, began to spin ridiculous tales of affairs and "secret relationships," fueling the fire with their lies. My name had become a public curse word.

***

When I arrived at the hospital the following morning, the lobby buzzed with activity. I walked past journalists clustered by the reception desk, their whispers carried faintly through the air.

Inside his room, Harvey sat upright in bed, pale and weak, with dark shadows beneath his eyes. He looked small against the stark white sheets. Yet his tired eyes flicked immediately to me and his expression softened with desperation.

"Maya!" he called out, his voice strained but urgent. He struggled to sit straighter, his trembling hands gripping the blanket. "You're finally here!" His eyes locked onto mine, searching, pleading. "I don't blame you at all. Please, don't do anything foolish."

The reporters who had been swarming him turned in unison, sensing a shift. Microphones were raised, cameras refocused. The red lights blinked alive once more and the lens of every device turned toward me.

Evelyn, perched by Harvey's side, scoffed loudly, drawing all eyes back to her. She tossed the damp towel onto the bedside table and turned to glare at me, a venomous smile twisting her lips. "Hmph! You still dare show your face here? I've never seen such a shameless woman!"

"Mom, stop it!" Harvey weakly interjected, wincing as he tried to calm her.

By the window, Lucia had been arranging a tray of freshly washed fruit. Now, she set it down with a deliberate click, the sound oddly sharp in the quiet room. A sardonic smile twisted her lips as she turned to me. "Why are you even here?" she asked, her voice cool with contempt.

"Why shouldn't I be here?" I shot back. My gaze swept over Evelyn and Lucia before settling briefly on Harvey, whose face had paled even more from the tension.

The journalists exchanged knowing glances, their eyes lighting up at the rising drama unfolding before them. A balding reporter pushed his way forward, his notebook and pen ready, his cameraman adjusting the focus.

"Excuse me," the reporter asked with practiced politeness, though his eager tone betrayed his excitement. "Are you his wife?"

I met his gaze directly, standing tall under the weight of all the cameras and judgment surrounding me. My voice was calm, steady and deliberate.

"Yes. I am."

The reporter's brow lifted slightly, his curiosity sharpened. "Then tell us—why didn't you save your husband? Do you have anything to say about these accusations?"

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes locking onto the nearest camera lens. The red light blinked, waiting for my words.

"Will you report the truth?"