My sister was experiencing a complicated, life-threatening labor, and our father, a top obstetrician, was the only one who could save her. In my past life, I called him without a second thought. After I practically begged on my knees, my father abandoned his honeymoon with his new wife, turned around, and performed the surgery. My sister was saved, but soon after, we received horrifying news. My stepmother, suffering a severe depressive episode, had thrown herself into the ocean and committed suicide. Before she died, she left a suicide note accusing my sister and me of bullying her for a decade. She claimed the honeymoon was her last lifeline, the final reason she gave herself to keep living, and we had destroyed it. My father read the note and claimed he didn’t blame us. Yet, on the day we celebrated my newborn nephew's one-month milestone, he poisoned everyone’s food. "If it weren't for you two, Evelyn would still be alive." "How did I end up with two such vicious, evil daughters? For the things you’ve done, dying a hundred times wouldn't be enough." He dragged my sister and me into the bathroom and brutally drowned us in the toilet, holding our heads under the water until we stopped moving. When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed back to the day my sister went into labor. ... The very first thing I did after realizing I was reborn was sprint to my sister’s house. But I was still a step too late. Pushing the door open, a thick, metallic smell of blood hit me like a physical blow. My sister, Chloe, was lying on the floor in a massive pool of her own blood. My tiny nephew was lying beside her in the blood, the umbilical cord still attached. Shaking violently, I dialed 911, frantically searching for a blanket to wrap my nephew in to keep him warm. The ambulance arrived quickly and rushed us to the nearest hospital. Just as Chloe and the baby were wheeled into the emergency room, my brother-in-law, Mark, arrived. "Mia, how is she?!" He was deathly pale. It was freezing outside, but he was only wearing a thin dress shirt. He had clearly sprinted out the door the second he got the call. Before I could answer, an ER doctor rushed out. He told us Chloe’s condition was critical. She needed immediate, complex surgery, and there were only two specialists in the city capable of performing it: Dr. Arthur Sterling at the City Center Hospital, and Dr. David Vance at the State General Hospital. Before Mark could speak, I blurted out: "We’ll go to State General! Doctor, please arrange the transfer—" "Wait, why State General?" Mark interrupted me. "Dr. Arthur Sterling at City Center is your dad! He’s been Chloe's primary physician this whole time; he knows her medical history inside and out. Obviously, transferring to City Center is the best option." I told him point-blank: "Dad is about to leave on his honeymoon with Evelyn. We shouldn't bother them." In my past life, when I heard the doctor’s assessment, I immediately called my father and begged him to come back. Chloe was saved, but my stepmother killed herself. Her suicide note was a manifesto of our supposed cruelty, framing my phone call to my father as the final straw that broke her. The smell of that toilet water was putrid and revolting. I absolutely refused to die such a pathetic, agonizing death again. "Are you insane?! What's more important, a honeymoon or your sister's life?!" Mark pulled out his phone and immediately dialed my father’s number. It rang for a long time before my father finally answered, sounding incredibly annoyed. "What is it?" Mark quickly summarized Chloe’s critical condition and begged him to come back immediately. "Dad, Chloe's situation is incredibly severe. Transferring her right now is a massive risk. Can you just come straight to this hospital and perform the surgery here? I’ll have them prep the OR immediately." My father usually doted on Chloe. During her pregnancy, he had her admitted for observation at the slightest sign of discomfort. Mark was absolutely certain he would rush back. But this time, the response completely shocked him. "Mark, who told you to say that? Was it Mia?" "I never expected you to join the girls in bullying Evelyn." "I personally examined Chloe this morning. Her vitals are perfectly stable, and there are absolutely no signs of premature labor. Do you have any conscience at all, pulling a stunt like this just to trick me into coming back?" My father viciously scolded Mark and abruptly hung up the phone. Mark stood frozen for a few seconds, then frantically redialed the number several times. My father’s phone was turned off. Even Evelyn’s phone went straight to voicemail. The ER doctor ran back out, urgently asking which hospital we had decided on. They had temporarily stabilized Chloe's vitals, and she was ready for transport. Since we couldn't reach my father, our only option was the much farther State General Hospital. Mark originally planned to ride in the ambulance with Chloe, but suddenly, the pediatric team announced that my newborn nephew was in distress. He needed to be rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), and a parent had to be present to sign consent forms. With his wife fighting for her life in one department and his newborn son crashing in another, Mark was completely paralyzed by panic, unable to make a decision. I grabbed his arm to ground him. "Mark, I will ride with Chloe to State General. You stay here and take care of the baby." Mark’s eyes instantly turned red. He gripped my hand tightly. "I'm counting on you, Mia. Please, make sure she survives." I nodded firmly. Chloe is five years older than me. Our mother died giving birth to me. We grew up without a mother. Our father was always consumed by his work, so Chloe and I practically raised each other. She is, without a doubt, the most important person in my life. Despite mentally preparing myself, seeing Chloe lying there unconscious, her face completely drained of color, broke me. I couldn't stop the tears. During the entire ambulance ride, I kept talking to her, desperately praying she would pull through. Thanks to the police escort we arranged, the usual hour-long drive took only forty minutes. When we arrived, Dr. Vance told me he was still finishing up another surgery. He instructed me to go straight to the ward and find the Head Nurse to get Chloe formally admitted. Once he finished, he would head straight to our OR. But when we reached the ward, the nurses flat-out refused us entry. They told us, "There are no available beds." Panicking, I said, "We spoke to Dr. Vance before we arrived! He authorized the admission!" A young nurse rolled her eyes. "Dr. Vance is rarely on the floor; he doesn't know the current bed status. We literally do not have a single bed left in this department. It doesn't matter if you know the Director, or even the hospital President. We can't materialize a bed out of thin air." I was on the verge of crying. I spotted an empty gurney parked in the hallway. "Can't we just use that gurney? She can just stay on that! Please, you have to help us. My sister is hemorrhaging, and Dr. Vance is the only one who can perform the surgery." The young nurse glanced at Chloe lying on the transport stretcher, then threw her hands up. "I'm just a junior nurse. I don't have the authority to add extra beds to the floor. You need to talk to the Head Nurse." She gave a pointed look toward the door with the 'Head Nurse' plaque. I understood immediately and rushed toward the office. Seeing the woman inside, I cried out in relief, "Aunt Nancy!" The woman was Nancy Lewis, one of my mother’s former colleagues. After my mother passed away, she frequently visited Chloe and me. Before she could speak, I grabbed her arm like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline. "Aunt Nancy, please, you have to admit my sister! She’s having a complicated labor and severe hemorrhaging! She needs surgery right now!" Nancy, who was famously known for her gentle demeanor, instantly scowled and yanked her arm out of my grasp. "Mia, I can't believe you actually came to our hospital. Take your sister and go home right now. Stop causing a scene. Your father used to work at this hospital! Half the staff here know him! Acting out like this is completely destroying his reputation!" Her words hit me like a physical blow to the head. My ears started ringing violently. "Aunt Nancy, what are you talking about?! I'm not acting! My sister is genuinely having a complicated labor! If you don't believe me, just step outside and look at her!" I grabbed her hand, trying to pull her out of the office. If she just looked at Chloe, she would instantly know I was telling the truth. "Mia, I have actual work to do! I don't have time to play games with you!" "Your father just called me! He told me he was taking your stepmother on a makeup honeymoon, and that you and your sister were so furious about it you decided to pull this sick prank to ruin their trip!" Nancy’s voice grew increasingly stern and reprimanding. "Mia, I know you resent your stepmother, but raising you two wasn't easy for her. I hear she's even battling severe depression. You cannot bully her like this! And a hospital is absolutely not the place for your theatrical tantrums! Take your sister and leave immediately!" Listening to her, I felt like I was losing my mind. If my father were standing in front of me right now, I would literally scream in his face. I never imagined he would go to such extreme, sociopathic lengths. He knew we were transferring Chloe here for life-saving surgery, so he preemptively used his connections to ensure we would be denied entry. But this wasn't the time to argue about his motives. I desperately tried to explain, "Aunt Nancy, you're misunderstanding! We aren't lying! My sister is actually hemorrhaging! I even contacted Dr. Vance before we came! If you don't believe me, call him!" Nancy looked at me with profound disappointment. "Mia, you are crossing a massive line. I can't believe you dragged the Director into your petty drama." "Do you have any idea that Dr. Vance is currently performing a highly complex, critical surgery?! If your phone call distracted him, and his hand slipped, the surgery could fail! You could permanently ruin a young woman's chance of ever having children!" "Medical resources are not your personal playthings! You need to call Dr. Vance immediately and apologize!" The girl on Dr. Vance's operating table was young, yes, but so was my sister! Furthermore, before we left the first hospital, the ER doctor explicitly warned us: if Chloe didn't get surgery within two hours, her chances of survival were basically zero. Thinking of that, I dropped to my knees without a second's hesitation. "Aunt Nancy, I'm begging you! I am not lying! My sister is dying! Please, just process the admission!" I aggressively slammed my forehead against the floor, kowtowing to her several times. Nancy froze, her rigid expression finally showing a flicker of doubt. Just as she was about to step out and check, the office door flew open. A junior nurse poked her head in. "Head Nurse, are we admitting that patient in the hallway or not? They're blocking the entrance to the ward and currently screaming at another patient's family!" Hearing this, Nancy and I immediately rushed out of the office. At the entrance to the ward, the paramedics who had transported Chloe were in a heated screaming match with the family members of another patient. Apparently, the patient had accidentally bumped into one of the paramedics while walking past, and the interaction quickly escalated into a full-blown shouting match. Nancy quickly intervened, separating the two groups. After soothing the patient and their family and escorting them back to their room, she marched directly toward me. I stepped forward anxiously. "Aunt Nancy, can we process the admission now?" Smack! Nancy delivered a stinging slap across my face. "Where did you hire these actors?! They have absolutely zero class! Don't they know there are sick people resting here?! Take these people and leave immediately, or I'm calling security!" My cheek burned like fire. I stared at her in utter disbelief. "How could you hit me?!" "Why shouldn't I hit you?!" Nancy glared at me fiercely. "I am your elder! Don't you feel an ounce of shame causing a massive scene in a hospital?! You clearly lack proper upbringing! You have absolutely no sense of decency or proportion!" You lack proper upbringing because you don't have a mother. I had heard those exact words from countless people throughout my life. But it had never hurt as agonizingly as it did in this exact moment. Does not having a mother mean my words are inherently untrustworthy? Does not having a mother mean my sister doesn't deserve medical treatment? I knew arguing with her was completely pointless. I violently wiped away my tears. "Fine! Fine! Nancy Lewis, you refuse to admit my sister? There has to be someone in this massive hospital who will! I'm going straight to the President's office right now to see if he'll handle this!" Seeing that I was actually going to escalate it to the President, Nancy panicked. She ordered two junior nurses to physically block my path. Then, she grabbed a phone and called security. "Security! We have individuals causing a severe disturbance on the maternity ward! Get up here and remove them immediately!" Security arrived in under three minutes. With a wave of Nancy's hand, they began forcefully pushing us, and Chloe's stretcher, toward the exit. I clung to the stretcher with a death grip, refusing to let them move it, sobbing hysterically for the entire floor to hear. "What right do you have to kick us out?! Isn't this a hospital?! Aren't you supposed to save lives?! My sister is critically ill, and you refuse to even look at her! How dare you call yourselves medical professionals?!" My screaming was so intense it drew a massive crowd of patients and their families. Even the two junior nurses seemed hesitant. They turned to Nancy and said cautiously: "Head Nurse... I don't think they're acting. Look at the woman on the stretcher. She hasn't moved an inch. She looks like she's genuinely unconscious." "Yeah, she looks incredibly pale. Maybe you should at least quickly assess her before making a final decision?" Their words seemed to finally break through Nancy's stubbornness. She hesitated for a few seconds and took a step toward the stretcher to take a closer look. Right at that moment, her phone rang. She answered it. "Dr. Sterling? Where are you? Your two daughters are causing a massive scene on my floor." My heart sank like a stone. It was my father. The hallway was relatively quiet, so my father's voice projected clearly from the phone speaker for everyone to hear. "They already caused a massive scene at another hospital, and now my former colleagues are calling me about it. Evelyn's blood pressure spiked because of all this stress. I'm bringing her to your hospital for an evaluation right now. Kick those girls out immediately. I don't want Evelyn to get upset if she sees them." Hearing those words, I completely lost whatever shred of sanity I had left. "Arthur Sterling, have you lost your fucking mind?! Your daughter is hemorrhaging and needs emergency surgery! You refuse to operate on her yourself, and now you're actively preventing anyone else from saving her?! What happens if she dies right here?!" My father let out a cold, cynical laugh. "Then let her die. I don't want daughters like you anyway." The call ended. I heard several people in the crowd gasp in horror. A father that ruthless is truly a rare sight. Nancy’s face hardened as she walked toward me. "Mia, you heard him. Stop intentionally antagonizing your father and your stepmother. They have it hard enough." The moment the words left her mouth, someone in the crowd shrieked in terror. "Oh my god! So much blood!" Nancy and I whipped our heads around simultaneously. The blanket covering Chloe was completely soaked in thick, dark crimson. The blood was dripping rapidly off the edge of the stretcher... Pooling into a massive, terrifying puddle on the linoleum floor. The visual shock was so catastrophic my brain completely shut down for several seconds. Then, I threw myself onto the stretcher like a rabid animal. "Chloe! Hold on! You can't die!" I turned and screamed at Nancy with homicidal fury: "What the fuck are you standing there for?! Get a doctor right now!" The junior nurse standing next to Nancy snapped back to reality and turned to run, but Nancy grabbed her arm. Nancy walked slowly toward me. "Mia, you and your sister are taking this act way too far. That volume of blood looks like she drained her entire body. Did you use chicken blood or pig blood for this stunt? Before you try to fake a hemorrhage, couldn't you at least Google what a real one actually looks like?"
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