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The door swung open, and a middle-aged man in a navy uniform stepped out,
"What's going on here? Chasing a young woman—she didn't start the fire."
"What are you trying to do?"
A dirt-smudged farmer stepped forward, pointing at me,
"This woman misreported the blaze and made it worse—what's the difference between that and arson?"
"You look like you're in charge—arrest her and make her pay for our trees!"
Chris and Lily hid behind the crowd, not daring to show themselves, but the man in uniform called for Chris.
"I'm the fire chief. Sir, please calm down first."
"Where the hell is Chris? He was on the front line—where is he? Find him now!"
"He was here just a minute ago—not sure where he went now," a firefighter replied.
Hearing that, Chris didn't dare hide any longer—he and Lily squeezed out of the crowd.
Watching Chris and Lily shuffle forward nervously, I trembled, clenching my fists tightly.
"You cold? Why are you shaking so badly?" The chief looked at me curious.
"They said you misreported the fire—care to explain?"
I took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
In front of the brass, I kept my composure,
"Chief, they can accuse me all they want—if they have proof, I'll cover the damages."
After hearing the whole story, the chief took a drag of his cigarette and turned to Chris,
"When did Shirley tell you about the fire conditions?"
Chris was panicking inside,
"On... on the way there, she said... she said the fire was small... under control." He stammered, nervy and evasive.
He thought I had no evidence and started spinning a tale.
The chief immediately saw the hole in his story, "If the fire was small, why didn't you put it out? Even if the wind kicked up, you should've been able to control it!"
Facing the chief's sharp questioning, Chris grew more flustered but forced himself to sound steady,
"When we got there, the wind suddenly picked up and the fire exploded. But we didn't have enough gear—I sent some men to fight it and others back to fetch more equipment and dig a firebreak."
In my past life, Chris ignored my orders and hid like a coward.
When the ridge blaze was tiny, and I told him to contain it.
But he acted like he knew better—he ditched his team, hid with Lily, and claimed they were digging a firebreak.
The teammates he left behind burned alive, and I took the blame.
This time, I wasn't going to spare his dignity,
"That fire was tiny—if the whole crew had worked it over, they could've put it out in a couple of hours. But someone didn't listen and ran off to dig a firebreak."
Lily stepped forward to argue,
"As the frontline medic, I was with Captain Chris the whole time. Shirley gave us wrong info—when we hit the ridge, the fire was huge. We didn't have the kit, so we had to pull back. By the time we came back, the whole hill was on fire."
One of the growers chimed in, "Yeah, the fire jumped like crazy—if I hadn't run, I would've been toast."
Faced with all those accusations, I felt like a defendant waiting for a verdict.
Just then, the fire commissioner and department brass arrived with a gaggle of reporters.
"Don't worry, folks—the department will give everyone a satisfactory answer."
