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!’

The elevators, however, were dead.

“Elevators are down until they’re inspected and repaired,” a firefighter told us. “Could be several days.”

People groaned. Mrs.

Lawrence went very quiet.

When they finally let us go back in, I carried her up again. Nine flights, slower this time, resting on landings.

She apologized the whole way.

“I hate this. I hate being a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” I said. “You’re family.”

Nick walked ahead, announcing each floor like a tiny tour guide.

We got her settled. I checked her meds, water, and phone.

“Call me if you need anything,” I said. “Or knock on the wall.”

“You saved my life,” she said softly.

“You’d do the same for us,” I said, though we both knew she couldn’t have dragged me down nine flights.

The next two days were stairs and sore muscles.

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