The click of those locks was quieter than the roar of the fire, but to me it was deafening. It wasn’t panic that hit first. It was disbelief. The idea that someone would prioritize procedure over a child’s safety felt unreal, like a test designed to measure how much restraint I had left.
“You cannot interfere,” Angela said firmly. “The fire department has been called. We must maintain order.”
“Order?” I repeated. “That car is about to ignite the entire row.” Smoke was rolling heavily now, dark and suffocating. The heat intensified as flames stretched toward a neighboring SUV. The crowd retreated farther, leaving a widening space between fear and responsibility.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
