1 Just because Dr. Chloe Flynn, his intern and junior colleague, wanted to perform the surgery, Dr. Liam Thorne allowed her to practice on our son's circumcision. "My junior colleague possesses extraordinary talent. You should count yourself lucky she's willing to operate." This was about our son's future, his very essence. I wanted an experienced surgeon, but Liam exploded, pointing a furious finger at my face. "Don't you dare look down on her. What if she's just an intern? Even the chief started out as an intern." I clung to the operating room doors, pleading desperately. "Let's not do this. Can I just take our son home?" He kicked me aside, shoving our son inside. "The child you raised is just like you, utterly pathetic." "Get out! Don't embarrass me here. Patient trust is ruined by people like you." It was days later, after he had attended a seminar with his junior colleague, when he finally reviewed the surgical recording. He saw our son's very manhood severed... The operating room doors finally swung open. Our son was wheeled out, his face deathly pale, like a discarded rag. His pants were soaked with blood, and he was completely unconscious. Panic seized me. They said it was just a minor procedure. Why was he bleeding so much? But no one at the hospital paid me any mind. They simply put us in a corner room that smelled faintly of decay. When no one was watching, I trembled as I unfastened our son's clothes to examine him. Red and yellow fluids glued his clothes to his skin. When I tugged, our son let out a heart-wrenching scream of pain. The next second, a bowl-sized wound was exposed to the air. My mind buzzed, and the world spun violently around me. Our son's future, his very manhood, had been severed. Coming to my senses, I scrambled, half-crawling, out to find a doctor, but the room door had been locked from the outside at some point. With all the hospital equipment around, this particular dead-end room had no cell signal. Helpless, I kept pressing the nurse call button, banging on the door, and shouting. "Liam Thorne, are you out there? Please come save our son! His life is in danger!" "Is anyone there? Help! Is there a doctor?" My shrill cries echoed through the corridor. A distant nurse, yawning, finally approached. She opened the door and shoved me roughly. "What's all that screaming for? A funeral? He's just bleeding a little. Is your child made of gold?" "Director Thorne and Dr. Flynn are at an academic conference. Who has time to watch your son all day?" I ignored the throbbing pain of my twisted wrist, bit my tongue to force myself calm, and stammered. "Fine, he's not here, that's okay. Are there any other doctors? My son is really in a bad state. Please, save him." The nurse rolled her eyes, scoffing. "This was a surgery approved by Director Thorne and performed by Dr. Flynn herself. What do you, a shrew, know?" "And it's after hours. This isn't your hospital; you can't just demand to see anyone you want." I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Even the junior nurses knew Director Thorne and Dr. Flynn were the hospital's 'golden couple,' while I, his legal wife, was treated like a pariah. Crash! Glass shattered, flying. I smashed a water glass, then held a shard to my throat, threatening. "This is medical malpractice! And because I'm Liam Thorne's wife! My son isn't just having normal post-op bleeding, his manhood was mistakenly severed! Call Leo's father now!" I pressed the glass hard against myself, nearly piercing my throat. With every word, blood trickled from my neck. The young nurse's face went white. She angrily dialed Liam Thorne. The moment the call connected, I snatched the phone, babbling incoherently for help. 2 "Liam Thorne, come back now! His manhood, our son's manhood is gone!" "Reattachment has a window of six hours! If you don't come back and save him, his life will be ruined forever!" At that moment, no other thought crossed my mind, only the desperate need to save my son. On the other end of the line, Liam Thorne paused for several seconds. He knew I would never joke about our son. "Alright, wait for me. I'll be there immediately—" But then, Dr. Chloe Flynn's syrupy voice drifted through the phone. "Senior colleague, do you not trust my medical skills?" "I'm your personal protégé, the rose you personally cultivated. Don't you trust yourself, or don't you trust me?" Though Chloe was Liam's intern, she was cross-trained in medicine, originally studying administration. She had never set foot in an operating room before. Liam Thorne's voice instantly turned icy. "Skye, don't think I don't know your sordid thoughts. We're merely conducting legitimate business." "His manhood is severed? Why don't you just say he's dead? It was just a circumcision. To frame Chloe, you'd even curse your own son. You, you shrew, are beyond redemption." "Oh, dear, my sister-in-law is just anxious. Senior colleague, look at this lace lingerie. Isn't it pretty? Buy some to appease your wife." I broke down. Our son's life hung in the balance, yet my husband was shopping for lingerie with another woman. What kind of "legitimate business" required a visit to a lingerie store? After the call ended, the nurse walked away with a look of disdain. Perhaps in her eyes, I was merely a jealous madwoman. Due to a post-surgical infection, our son began to convulse with fever. I wanted to hold him, but I was afraid of hurting him, so I could only repeatedly try to cool him down with cold compresses. Our son whimpered, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "Daddy, am I brave?" At that moment, tears streamed down my face. He was the child I had conceived after three years of IVF. I had always been meticulous in raising him, sometimes overly so. But because of his gentle nature, Liam always found him disappointing. This time, our son had only cooperated with the surgery because he wanted to be brave, just like Daddy said. It was my fault, my baby. I'm so sorry. Our son saw me crying and tried to wipe away my tears. As he shifted, he suddenly bled out. The bed sheets beneath him instantly became soaked in blood. Seeing this, I panicked, losing a shoe as I ran. I furiously hammered on the room door, screaming for help again. Fortunately, the nurse on duty returned. Before I could even explain our son's condition, several burly men rushed out from behind her. "This woman's insane. She's been causing a scene all night. Director Thorne said she has mental health issues. Just handle her." After saying that, the men approached with leers, roughly lifted me, and strapped me to the hospital bed, spread-eagled. Countless large hands took the opportunity to roam over my body. Even my inner thighs were bruised purple. My wrists were raw with blood from the restraints. Unable to move, I struggled to signal the nurse with my head to look at my son. "The child is bleeding heavily. If he doesn't get help soon, he'll die. Please, find a doctor." They injected me with a sedative. I slammed my head against the metal bed frame, the stinging pain of tears mixing with blood the only thing keeping me somewhat conscious. The nurse saw the bed sheet beneath our son, blackened and soaked with blood. Her knees buckled. She quickly called Liam Thorne. "Director, maybe you should come back and take a look. This child really has bled a lot." Liam Thorne sighed impatiently. "Post-op bleeding is perfectly normal, isn't it? Are you even a medical professional? Can't handle this? Just quit." "And if that woman keeps causing trouble, just throw her out." After the call ended, I looked at the nurse with desperate hope, praying she would stop our son's bleeding. 3 To my horror, she held her nose, glanced at him from a distance, then turned and uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from a cabinet, pouring it directly onto his wound. "Hear that? A little post-op bleeding is normal. Why are you screaming like a banshee? Remember to pay for the soiled sheets." "This surgery was performed by Dr. Flynn and overseen by Director Thorne. How could anything go wrong? We see plenty of entitled mothers like you." The moment the hydrogen peroxide touched our son's wound, the surrounding flesh immediately curled and blanched. She then continued to prod the raw flesh in his wound with tweezers. Our son convulsed in agony, his body twisting, only to be yanked straight by the nurse. A guttural gasp rasped in his throat. Watching my son, in too much pain to even cry, I desperately hammered the metal bed, struggling to get down. "Son, my son, just a little longer. Mommy will find a way to save you." He was only five, he should have been growing up without a care in the world. Instead, he was lying here. His manhood severed. How ironic that Liam Thorne was the best surgeon in the city, having saved countless limbs, yet he refused to come back and save his own son. As I saw my son's struggles weaken, I exerted all my strength, biting down, and deliberately breaking my own wrist. Ignoring the searing pain of my fractured right hand, I slowly dragged myself next to my son, pressing tightly against his small body. You were brought into this world by your mother, and your mother will never, ever abandon you. In my fading consciousness, my phone, which had been without signal, suddenly flickered twice. I clenched my broken bone, using the pain to force myself to stay awake. Even a sliver of hope, I had to try. Dragging my broken right hand, I crawled on my knees until I finally reached my phone and dialed 911. "Hello, my son has a severe injury and is bleeding heavily from his lower body. Our address is St. Jude's Medical Center..." But the operator on the other end mercilessly rejected me. "Patient transfer requires a certificate from the attending physician. Furthermore, you are already at the best hospital in this city. Please do not over-utilize medical resources." I held the phone, almost in despair. By then, our son's pupils were already somewhat dilated. He murmured faintly, over and over. "Mommy, I hurt so bad. Where's Daddy? Didn't he say he'd stay with me if I was a brave little man?" My heart felt like it was tearing apart. I wished the pain was mine. Unsure how to respond, I could only press my forehead against his, trying to soothe him. "Baby, don't sleep. Daddy will be back soon." Now, I had no extravagant hopes. I accepted that my son had lost his manhood. I just wanted him to live. He was my flesh and blood. I desperately hammered on the door, the glass shattering, piercing my palm, but I felt no pain. If only my child could be saved, I would willingly die right now. Perhaps heaven heard my prayer. The door before me suddenly opened a crack. I frantically crawled out, only seeing the hurried back of a cleaning lady. I knew this was the most she could do. I used to save empty bottles for her every time I visited. My wrist was broken, so I crawled forward on my elbows. Soon, both elbows were a bloody mess, revealing bone. I crawled tirelessly, leaving a long, crimson trail behind me. Finally, a pair of leather shoes stopped in front of me. I grabbed the person's pant leg, disregarding everything else, repeating my plea. "Please, save my child." Then I passed out. 4 When I next awoke, I assumed my son had already received treatment. To my shock, he was sprawled crookedly amidst medical waste, his body covered in filth. Suddenly, a searing pain shot through my scalp. Someone was yanking my hair, forcing my head up. "So you're the one saying my daughter messed up a surgery? I think you're just here to cause trouble." "I truly don't know how Thorne ever fell for a woman like you. Just die already and make way for my daughter." The person was Dean Flynn, Dr. Chloe Flynn's mother and the hospital's director. She had always wanted Liam Thorne as a son-in-law, but I had somehow gotten in the way years ago. I prostrated myself on the ground, frantically kowtowing to her, not caring if I died. The floor was soon slick with my blood. "Please, save my child. If you'll save him, I'll divorce Liam Thorne tomorrow. I'll take the child and never disturb their lives again." Dean Flynn kicked me over, then closed the door again. "My daughter is a precious jewel; she will never marry a divorced man. If she marries, it will only be a widower." I closed my eyes, letting the blood obscure my vision. My son and I would likely not make it out today, no matter what. If anything happened to him, I'd bash my head against the wall beside him, so he wouldn't be lonely on his journey. Suddenly, the phone rang. Dean Flynn's eyes held a complex expression as she walked into a darker corner to answer. "Is that Thorne? The Chief Consultant personally came to check. The child is fine. I've arranged a private nursing room for both mother and child." "Don't worry about the Chief Consultant. You focus on your conference over there; leave this to me. "Oh, coincidentally, the child is asleep right now. He can't talk to you." It seemed Liam Thorne still cared about our son. I screamed with all my might. "She's lying to you! The child is in critical condition! She's covering up Chloe's mistake!" Liam Thorne, who had been somewhat hesitant, immediately became enraged. He cursed at me over the phone. "Are you just bored out of your mind? You complain about my junior colleague being an intern, and now you're slandering my Chief Consultant? "If you're unhappy with everyone, then just get out of the hospital." Liam Thorne hung up, watched by Dean Flynn's sneering eyes. My son and I were dragged back into the corner like two dead dogs. "Thorne has spoken. Trash belongs in the trash heap. Just wait to die and make way for my daughter." The trash room was swarming with mosquitoes. Flies, drawn by the scent of blood, laid eggs in our son's wound. Despite my tireless efforts to shoo them away, it was useless. After what felt like an eternity, our son stopped responding to my words. His body grew cold, then his wound began to emit a putrid stench. Soon, maggots crawled out of his flesh. I held my son tightly, rocking him gently, singing his favorite nursery rhymes, hoping he would call me "Mommy" one more time. In my haze, I seemed to hear Liam Thorne's voice. I strained on tiptoes, peering out the window. Dr. Chloe Flynn was being pushed into Liam Thorne's embrace by a crowd. Both of them blushed furiously, and the surrounding people jeered. "Congratulations, Dr. Flynn, on your first successful surgery! Aren't the two heroes going to kiss?" Discharged? Were they talking about us? Who would have thought we were locked in a trash room? Just a door away. Liam Thorne and his mistress reaped fame and fortune outside. Our son seemed to hear his father's voice and convulsed twice more, then died in my arms. At this point, I had nothing left to live for in this world. I took off the only piece of clothing still intact and wiped my son's face. My son liked to be clean. He'd get upset if his clothes or face were dirty. But Liam Thorne hated this, saying our son was being dramatic. Yet, I had seen Dr. Chloe throw a fit because the hem of her skirt was dirty, and Liam half-knelt to clean it for her. Was Chloe not "dramatic" then? Perhaps he just despised everything about me and our son. "My baby, if there's a next life, remember to choose a daddy who loves you." After wiping our son's face clean, I tied him tightly to my back with my clothes, then hurled myself backward through the sea-facing window.
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