I Carried My Elderly Neighbor down Nine Flights During a Fire – Two Days Later, a Man Showed Up at My Door and Said, ‘You Did It on Purpose!’

That Tuesday started normally.

Spaghetti night. Nick’s favorite because it’s cheap and hard for me to ruin. He sat at the table pretending he was on a cooking show.

“More Parmesan for you, sir?” he said, flicking cheese everywhere.

“That’s enough, Chef.

We already have an overflow of cheese here.”

He smirked and started telling me about a math problem he’d solved.

Then the fire alarm went off.

At first, I waited for it to stop. We get false alarms weekly. But this time it turned into one long, angry scream.

Then I smelled it—real smoke, bitter and thick.

“Jacket. Shoes. Now,” I said.

Nick froze for a second, then bolted for the door.

I grabbed my keys and phone and opened ours. Gray smoke curled along the ceiling. Someone coughed.

Someone else yelled, “Go! Move!”

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