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Photos began to cycle.
Michael, Amanda, and Lucas cooking in my UWS apartment. Michael tucking Lucas in. A romantic candlelight dinner.
In one photo, Amanda was asleep on Michael's shoulder while he kissed her forehead.
A perfect little family.
Except Michael's marriage certificate said "Emily Evans."
Then, the audio played. The dispatch recording I got from the FOIA request:
"Captain Miller reporting. Building B structure compromised. No viable entry. Advising all units re-deploy to Sector A."
Then Chief Garcia's voice:
"Negative, Captain. Thermal shows heat source on the tenth floor. Confirm your assessment."
A hesitation. Then Michael:
"Chief... Building B is... extremely dangerous.
Sector A has confirmed survivor, minor, high priority..."
Then my scream from the background:
"He's lying! My son is in Building B! Tenth floor!"
The recording cut.
The screen displayed the thermal data proving Building B was safe.
Text appeared:
"Captain Michael Miller misled his command to prioritize his ex-girlfriend's son over his own biological child."
The crowd went silent.
Then, realization hit.
"Holy shit! It's that FDNY scandal from six months ago!"
"It's them!"
"She has the nerve to ask for sympathy?"
The mood flipped instantly.
People on the street started yelling up at the fire escape.
"You said you'd jump? Go ahead!"
"Liar! Homewrecker!"
Amanda panicked. She grabbed Lucas and backed away from the edge.
The crowd booed. Someone threw a coffee cup.
Amanda tried to scramble back into the window, but she had locked it from the outside to prevent my staff from stopping her.
She banged on the glass, screaming.
"Let me in! Please! Help me!"
Suddenly, the window opened from the inside. A hand grabbed her arm and yanked her in.
I frowned and called my assistant. "Block the exits. Force them out the front. Call building security."
Moments later, a man was shoved out the front door, shielding Amanda.
He had thrown his FDNY jacket over her head. He wore a Yankees cap pulled low, using his body to block the angry crowd.
I stepped out of my Tesla Model X, grabbed a megaphone I had prepared, and shouted:
"Michael! Even now, you're still protecting her?"
The crowd went wild.
"That's the firefighter?! Captain Michael?!"
"Scumbag! Still defending the mistress!"
"Get him!"
Michael's hat was knocked off. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine.
I leaned against my car, watching the mob tear them apart verbally.
People were livestreaming.
"#Homewrecker is trending!" someone shouted.
Amanda was shaking under Michael's arm. Lucas was wailing.
