The Neurosurgeon's Fate
Yet the very next day, against all medical advice, Sharon took him home. The bumpy car ride to their rural town caused a cerebral hemorrhage, and the boy, Jake, was dead on arrival.
Consumed by grief, Jake's father confronted me after another marathon surgery. Cornering me in the hallway, he stabbed a hidden knife through my skull.
As my vision faded, I saw my junior colleague, Angela, rush to my side. Pretending to apply pressure, she whispered venomously, "Your own fianc told the family you perform unnecessary surgeries for kickbacks. Blame yourself for standing in my way. There can only be one top surgeon here."
Darkness consumed me, filled with thoughts of injustice. Then, I gaspedmy eyes opened. I was back in the exam room, on the day I first diagnosed Sharon's son. This time, as she screamed for a different doctor, I smiled and gladly agreed.
1.
"What are you talking about, Evelyn? My Jake is just a kid! He eats like a horse, sleeps like a log. How could he have a tumor?" Sharon Millers voice echoed in the small clinic room.
"And you want to cut open his head? Are you insane? That would kill him!" she shrieked, her plump face contorted with suspicion. "We're from the same town, Evelyn. You can't make this kind of dirty money off your own people."
I stared at the womandark-haired, stout, with a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes. The phantom pain of a blade piercing my skull felt so real, it was as if it had happened a second ago.
Wait, I thought, a strange clarity cutting through the haze. Didn't I die?
"Ma'am, please, calm down," my intern, Crystal, said gently. "Why don't you let us run some tests? Dr. Reed is the best neurosurgeon in this hospital. Our former director recruited her personally..."
"She's one of the top specialists in the country," Crystal insisted.
Sharon shoved her aside. "I'm not an idiot! You just want to milk us for kickbacks. A few scans and you'll charge hundreds of dollars! We want a different doctor!"
I looked at the furious woman, a chill running down my spine. She clutched her overweight son, Jake, who glared at me and Crystal with hostile eyes. Beside them, his father stood silently, his face grim as he scrolled through his phone.
I realized with a jolt. I'd been reborn.
It was this couple, this very family, who had destroyed my life.
In my previous life, after graduating at the top of my class, I was recruited to this hospital. It had the most advanced neurological research facilities in the country, a place where I could truly make a difference. Out of respect for my mentor, who was old friends with the director, I accepted the position.
Id spent my university years traveling the globe, studying under the world's best surgeons. The intricate pathways of the human brain were as familiar to me as the back of my hand. My philosophy was simple: prevent disaster before it strikes. I always advocated for direct, decisive action to eliminate the root cause of a disease, minimizing harm to the patient. I poured everything into my work, sometimes even paying for a patients treatment out of my own pocket, all for that one chance to snatch a life back from death's grip.
Then Sharon found me. I took one look at her son, Jake, and knew instantly. Cerebral arteriosclerosis. He needed surgery, and he needed it now.
But after the successful operation, there were no words of thanks. Instead, they checked him out behind my back. The rough journey home ruptured a blood vessel in his brain.
And they blamed me.
"My son just had a fever!" I remembered his father screaming, his face a mask of grief and fury. "You incompetent quack! I should have listened to Dr. Sweet! She told me it was just a cold, that he only needed a few days of IV fluids... You... You deserve to die!"
It had all been Angela Sweet's doing.
Angela, my junior colleague, had a habit of downplaying serious diagnoses to appease patients, prescribing useless remedies instead of real treatment.
"Evelyn, you can't just jump to surgery for everything," she would say with that saccharine smile of hers. "I know you're a brilliant surgeon, but sometimes, a more holistic approach is better. Everyone gets a headache now and then. If you cut open everyone who did, no one would be left alive."
She stoked their fears and resentments. The story went viral online, and my reputation was destroyed. I was fired.
After I was murdered, the families of other patientsextremists I had diagnosed with grim prognosesfound my parents' home. They set it on fire. My mother and father were trapped inside, burned alive.
But now, I had a second chance. And as I looked at the Millers demanding a new doctor, I didn't hesitate.
"Fine," I said, my voice clear and firm. "I agree."
Angela, who had just arrived, stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. I was known for my stubbornness, for fighting for what I believed was right for my patients. Why would I give up so easily? This was a direct competition. Whoever performed more successful surgeries this month would be nominated for Head of Neuroscience. Angela coveted that title. In our world, a title meant status, power.
Sharon Miller was stunned into silence. The whole speech she'd prepared was now useless. Her husband, however, just looked at me with contempt.
"I just asked one of those new AI doctors online," he grumbled, holding up his phone. "My son has the flu. That's why he has a fever and a headache. Just give him some flu medicine and a few shots. Don't waste his time. He has school. You can't afford to hold him back."
My colleagues nearby gasped.
"Sir, you can't be careless with a child's health," one of them pleaded. "What you read online isn't the same as a real diagnosis. You really should let us run the tests..."
"Dr. Reed isn't lying!" Crystal cried out. "Your son is showing symptoms of sclerosis in his brain. If you ignore it, his life will be in danger!"
The next second, Sharon kicked Crystal's legs out from under her, sending the young intern sprawling to the floor.
"You little bitch!" Sharon screeched. "How dare you curse my son to die! To hell with your surgery! We're not doing it! You think we don't know how it works? A fifty-thousand-dollar surgery, and forty-five thousand goes right into your pockets!" She turned her venom on me. "And you, Evelyn! Our town was so proud of you, the big university graduate. Has a dog eaten your conscience? Are you using my son as a guinea pig?"
At her words, Jake jumped forward and kicked me hard in the shin.
"I knew it! You're trying to get back at me!" he yelled. "It was your stupid dog that barked at me first! That's why I chopped it up!"
A dark shadow passed over my eyes. My dog, my beloved old Shepherd, had been found hacked to death years ago. So it was him. This vicious little monster.
"You try to kill me, and I'll have my parents kill your whole family!" he threatened.
My face went cold. I gently helped Crystal up from the floor.
If I was right, Angela had already been in contact with them. This little demon, Jake. In my last life, I had saved him. Out of pity and a sense of hometown loyalty, I had even paid for part of his surgery myself. The operation was a success. But I never imagined they would check him out of the hospital against my explicit orders. After intracranial surgery, any jolting movement is forbidden. The country roads were full of potholes, and buses could brake suddenly. A cerebral hemorrhage gives you three minutes. Three golden minutes. Out in the countryside, there was no hope of getting to a hospital in time.
I became the scapegoat, the villain. My parents paid the price with me.
Only after my death did I learn the truth. It was all a conspiracy.
And one of the conspirators was my own fianc, the forensic pathologist, Dr. Marcus Thorne.
Angela Sweet was his first love.
For her, he had violated his oath, falsified my autopsy report, and pinned everything on me.
"Alright," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "I accept your decision. From this moment on, Jake Miller's health is no longer my concern. His life or death has nothing to do with me."
Angela stepped forward, a look of faux concern on her face. "Evelyn, that's so cold!" she said, then turned to the Millers with a gentle smile. "Don't worry, your son will be fine. I'm a neurosurgeon too. It looks like he just has a bad cold. A few days on an IV drip, and he'll be right as rain."
She tenderly stroked Jake's head, her smile as sweet as her name.
"Mommy, she's an angel!" Jake exclaimed.
The crowd of onlookers murmured in agreement. "Now that's a real doctor! The other one was so heartless."
"Jumping to surgery for everything. Does she think we're made of money?"
"Yeah, a person's head isn't something you can just slice open!"
"She's just trying to line her own pockets."
I ignored them. They clamored to have their appointments transferred to Angela. A triumphant gleam shone in her eyes. This was too easy. At this rate, her patient numbers for the month would soar past mine. The Head of Neuroscience position was as good as hers.
"Well, Evelyn, since it's settled," Angela said sweetly, "I'll have my assistant transfer their file to my name."
She couldn't believe her luck. She had been planning to ask Marcus to help her stage a scene, but this was better than she could have imagined. Shed already had her father, the hospital director, and Marcus pre-screen her patients for the month. They were all minor cases, easy wins to boost her success rate. But she couldn't compete with my perfect record. I had performed several high-risk, groundbreaking surgeries, and my reputation was growing.
A flash of jealousy crossed her face. Even with her father's help, she was nothing compared to my raw skill. She was terrified of being pushed to the margins. But now... it seemed her luck had turned. Whatever the reason for my surrender, it was a victory for her.
I watched her smug expression and thought, You fool.
Jake's condition mimicked the flu, but it was incredibly complex and dangerous. I had been fortunate enough to assist on a similar, groundbreaking surgery with the world-renowned Dr. Alistair Finch and my late mentor. Jake's case was identical to that one. But such cases were exceedingly rare. In my previous life, Jake had been the first documented case in the country, a case of immense research value.
But remembering what it had cost me, I wanted no part of it.
I didn't try to stop the other patients from leaving. In my last life, they had filmed my confrontation with the Millers, later using the edited footage to help Angela smear my name.
"Excuse me," a smooth, gentle voice said. "If you need to transfer your appointments, the line starts over here."
I looked up. It was Marcus. My heart turned to ice.
Marcus was a forensic pathologist for the city police, in charge of autopsies.
"Evelyn," he said, smiling warmly. "Looks like you'll finally get to leave work early for a change." He turned to Angela. "Angela, thank you so much for taking this on. Now I can finally have some quality time with my fiance."
He was playing the part of the devoted partner, smoothing things over for Angela. I looked at him, a half-smile on my face. A flicker of unease crossed his eyes.
"What do you mean by that, Marcus?" I asked.
"Evelyn, I was just worried they would give you a hard time. You know how tense doctor-patient relationships can be these days. Their emotions are running high. I didn't want them to do something drastic."
He looked so sincere. If I hadn't lived through it all before, I might have believed him. The man was a master of deception. He was the one who had secretly stoked the Millers' anger in the first place.
Soon, the Millers were officially transferred to Angela's care. She theatrically placed a stethoscope on Jake's chest and took his temperature.
"Yes, it's definitely a bit of a cold," she announced. "And the headache is normal. It happens when you cough a lot. Some anti-inflammatories and a few days on a drip should clear it right up."
Just then, the hospital directorAngela's fatherwalked over. He made a show of reviewing the chart in front of everyone.
"Dr. Sweet is correct," Director Sweet announced. "I've just seen the blood work. The boy definitely has influenza."
The Millers beamed. "See! We told you!" Sharon said, turning to glare at me. "Evelyn, how could you try to rip off your own people? You were trying to rob us and kill our son!"
The crowd erupted again, their anger directed at me.
"The director himself said it's the flu!"
"She wanted to do surgery for the flu? That doctor has no ethics!"
"Who would dare be her patient? She'll cut your head open just to see what's inside!"
Angela basked in the attention, stepping forward to play the benevolent peacemaker. "Everyone, please calm down. My senior colleague's specialty is surgery. It's what she does best. So it's natural that... her first instinct is to operate. My family comes from a long line of holistic healers, so my focus is on non-invasive treatment. Different doctors, different philosophies. Please try to understand."
Her carefully chosen words fanned the flames once more.
"We trust you, Dr. Sweet!"
"Quacks like her will get what's coming to them!"
"She treats people from her hometown like lab rats!"
"This is a prestigious hospital! How can they employ scum like her?"
A triumphant smirk flickered across Angela's face. She didn't even have to lift a finger, and I was destroying myself. This was too easy. Still, she put on a troubled expression. "Evelyn, I didn't mean to steal your patient..."
"It's fine," I said calmly. "You can handle it. I have no objections. We must respect the patient's right to choose." I turned to my intern. "Crystal, you'll be my assistant from now on. Could you please help transfer these files to Dr. Sweet?"
Crystal's eyes went wide. "Dr. Reed... am I dreaming? I get to learn from you? Really?"
Others might not know, but Crystal and I had graduated from the same medical school. She knew that I was a legend there. She could see exactly how these people were trying to sabotage me.
"Of course," I said, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time.
In my last life, when the Millers attacked, innocent people were hurt. Crystal was the only one who tried to step in. Her hand was badly slashed, ending her career as a surgeon before it even began. She was a true doctor, and her journey shouldn't have ended that way.
"You're right, this does lighten my workload," I said, glancing at Marcus with a wry smile. "In that case, I'll take my new assistant out for a celebratory dinner. We're clocking out early today."
Marcus looked relieved that I was being so agreeable, but a flicker of worry crossed his face. "Evelyn, something's come up at the precinct..."
I nodded understandingly. "Of course. You go handle it."
I knew what he was doing. He wanted to stay and help Angela. Her medical skills were, to put it mildly, questionable. She had been my senior at university, but only because she'd had to repeat several years. She had barely managed to graduate, let alone master the art of medicine.
I looked at the crowd of patients, all gazing at Angela as if she were their savior. A wave of bitter irony washed over me. I couldn't wait to see how a doctor who could barely identify the parts of the human anatomy planned to cure the country's first documented case of intracranial vascular sclerotic tumors.
Back in my office, I started brewing some herbal tea.
"Dr. Reed," Crystal whispered, her voice laced with anxiety. "Are you really not going to do anything? We don't have a single patient left. You're the expert here."
Just as in my last life, someone in the crowd had recorded my "refusal" to treat the Millers. The video was already spreading online, painting me as a callous monster. Compared to the beautiful and gentle Angela Sweet, I was the perfect villain.
Sure enough, Director Sweet soon summoned me to his office. Angela was standing behind him, a smug look on her face.
"Dr. Reed," the director began, his tone stern. "Your patient recovery numbers this quarter are less than half of Angela's. I know the old director brought you in, but this hospital operates on results. This situation is making things very difficult for us."
"A hospital isn't a charity, you understand." He slid his phone across the desk. "The patients have a very strong opinion of you. Take a look."
The video of me "refusing" treatment was playing. It had tens of millions of views. The comment section was a torrent of abuse. Of course, the part where the Millers were screaming and kicking was conveniently edited out.
"A doctor who doesn't value human life! Who would trust her?"
"Greedy witch! I hope her whole family dies!"
I stared coldly at the angle of the video. I remembered it perfectly. It was filmed from the exact spot where Marcus had been standing moments before he "appeared" to break things up. The implication was clear.
"Dr. Reed, this is a very serious matter in the public eye. We have a reputation to maintain." He steepled his fingers. "We are considering revoking all of your performance bonuses for the year, as well as... your eligibility for the Head of Neuroscience position."
"Director Sweet," I said calmly. "I understand you want to pave the way for your daughter. But you should be careful what you wish for. Don't let your ambition ruin her career, and yours along with it." I looked him dead in the eye. "To coddle a child is to condemn them."
I glanced at the family photo on his desk, then turned and slammed the door behind me. This wasn't the first time he'd tried to get rid of me. I refused to use the overpriced imported drugs and equipment he pushed, and I refused to take part in the kickback schemes he ran with other clinics. The real money-grubber wasn't me.
Director Sweet watched me go, taking a deep breath. "Angela, that's as much as I can do for you," he said once I was gone. "You have to handle this opportunity carefully. Why did you let this blow up so big?"
"The public attention on this case is massive now," he continued, a note of worry in his voice. "Fortunately, this Jake Miller's illness isn't serious. But... I'm worried. Evelyn was the old director's hand-picked successor. His judgment was never wrong."
"You need to find a way to get that boy cured and discharged as soon as possible. What happens to him after he leaves our hospital is not our problem." There was a deep unease in his voice. He and all the senior doctors had reviewed the case. It really did look like a migraine caused by the flu. Could one young woman really be smarter than all of them, with their decades of clinical experience?
He scoffed. This hospital didn't need talented people. It just needed obedient people.
A dark glint appeared in Angela's eyes. "Don't worry, Dad. Evelyn was a big shot in university. I just can't stand her high-and-mighty attitude. If you don't pull a weed out by the roots, it will just grow back again."
She wanted it to blow up. She wanted to make it impossible for Evelyn Reed to ever practice medicine again. A venomous look crossed her face. Throughout their internship, people had constantly compared them. It was always a comparison between heaven and earth.
This time, she was going to be the one in heaven, and she would grind Evelyn Reed under her heel until she was nothing but dust.
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