I drafted two copies of a severance agreement. My parents, my sister, and I all signed and pressed our fingerprints onto them.
Outside, the commotion was getting louder. My mother shifted uneasily.
“Maris, there isn’t a problem, is there?”
My sister waved her off. “Don’t worry, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
But when we stepped outside, we saw a wall of fire. The fields were burning out of control, flames stretching as far as the eye could see.
The field that was now ablaze belonged to the village chief. His crops were seconds from being completely swallowed by the fire, and the fire trucks still hadn’t arrived.
The villagers rushed to help, but the flames were spreading too fast—every bucket of water they carried felt like a drop in the ocean.
In front of the wrecked Rolls-Royce, its owner stood stiffly, face dark with barely contained rage.
My sister had already transformed herself—perfect makeup, a carefully chosen dress that made her look soft and pitiful. She minced toward him, voice trembling just enough to sound sincere.
“Sir, I’m so sorry. My son was playing with firecrackers and accidentally threw them into the manhole, which caused… this.”