A five-year-old boy with a severe heart defect lived for barely a month because I defied his family's wishes and fought tooth and nail to perform a heart transplant on him. The result? He drowned the very day he was discharged. His family stormed the hospital and stabbed me eighteen times. My boyfriend, pretending to try and save my life, leaned in close and whispered viciously in my ear. "Know why you're being stabbed? Because I tricked this hillbilly family into thinking you botched the surgery..." "Sarah, you have to die so I can take your place as the Chief of Surgery!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first consulted that little boy. 1 "Surgery? You only do surgery on crippled people!" "My sweet grandson is perfectly healthy! You're just a quack trying to squeeze money out of us!" The shrill, grating insults echoed in my ears. I clutched my chest, gasping for air. What was happening... Didn't I just get stabbed to death? "Ma'am! Watch your language!" "Dr. Jenkins is the youngest Attending Surgeon in the entire cardiothoracic department!" Jessica, a medical intern, stepped in front of me, indignantly defending my honor. I slowly raised my head. I saw a ragged-looking older woman clutching a five-year-old boy in her arms, spit flying from her mouth as she yelled. Sitting across from my desk was a scruffy, middle-aged man, his head down as he scrolled on his phone. That man! That was Billy Miller—the man who stabbed me eighteen times! Why was I seeing him again... Could it be... Did God open His eyes and give me a second chance at life?! Before I could fully process it, Billy crossed his legs and spoke with absolute arrogance. "I just looked it up on WebMD. My son's symptoms match a basic respiratory infection. Just write us a prescription for some antibiotics so we can leave." Jessica was so furious she could barely stand still. She fired back instantly. "You can't trust random things you read on the internet! Dr. Jenkins has clearly explained that your son's heart condition is critical!" "The only option is a transplant! If he doesn't get surgery, your son won't live past the month!" Billy slammed his hand on the desk and stood up, pointing a menacing finger at me and Jessica. "You little bitches dare curse my son?! You looking for a beating?!" "If you mention surgery one more time, I'll tear this whole hospital apart!" The five-year-old, Tommy, realizing what was going on, started throwing a massive tantrum in his grandmother's arms. "I don't want surgery! I don't want it! I don't want it!" "Surgery hurts! They want to hurt me! Grandma, hit them! Kill them!!" "Oh, my sweet boy, don't cry, you're breaking Grandma's heart! I'll beat her up for you right now!" The grandmother, Martha, hoisted Tommy up, raised her hand, and swung it directly at my face. This entire scene was sickeningly familiar. In my past life, holding true to my medical ethics, I forcefully admitted Tommy to the hospital. When a suitable donor heart became available, I spent hours convincing his mother to sign the consent form and personally performed the transplant. The surgery was a massive success. His recovery was flawless. A few days later, he was discharged. But I never expected that on the very day he went home, the family—unable to say no to the brat's whining—would completely ignore my strict medical orders and let him go swimming in a freezing lake! The extreme shock sent his heart into an arrhythmia. He couldn't even make it to the shore before he drowned. Bang! I slammed my hand down on the desk. Martha froze mid-swing. Billy snapped his head to look at me. I looked at them, my voice completely calm and indifferent. "Don't worry. From this day forward, I will never operate on him." Today, I finally understood a universal truth. My top-tier medical resources shouldn't be wasted saving idiots. People who seek death don't deserve to live. 2 Billy assumed I was intimidated by his outburst. He sat back down, looking smug. "Should've said that from the start! You women just need to be put in your place!" Martha pulled Tommy back into her arms and spat on the floor toward me. "What terrible luck! Getting up bright and early to come to the hospital, only to get assigned this black-hearted quack!" "Let's go! We'll make the nurses find us a real doctor!" "What's going on? Why is it so loud in here?" A male voice came from the doorway. Everyone turned to look. A handsome doctor in a crisp white coat walked in. It was Dr. Mark Evans, my boyfriend of seven years. I stared at him, my eyes bloodshot. His vicious words right before my death echoed in my skull. I used to think we were the perfect couple, moving from medical school sweethearts to successful professionals. I had no idea he had viewed me as a thorn in his side this entire time! "Dr. Evans! Thank god you're here!" "These people are actually insulting Dr. Jenkins's expertise!" Jessica let out a sigh of relief, looking at Mark like he was our savior. Mark frowned slightly upon hearing the different titles—"Dr. Evans" versus "Dr. Jenkins" (who held the title of Attending Professor). Without asking my permission, he casually picked up Tommy's charts and scans. "Is that so? Let me take a look at the scans." "Hmm... there is a bit of inflammation. A few days of IV antibiotics will do the trick. It's nothing serious." Hearing this, the three Millers let out a collective sigh of relief, looking at Mark like he was a god. "Male doctors are just more reliable! See? I told you my son was fine!" "You are so smart and moral, doctor! Not like this black-hearted woman who actually wanted to cut my precious grandson open!" Mark stood next to me and spoke with a sickeningly modest tone. "Sarah is young. She relies entirely on her surgical skills to hold her position, so it's natural that she likes to show off in front of patients." "She just got a little too eager and made a mistake this time. Please, forgive her." I watched his performance with cold, dead eyes. This kind of gaslighting—pretending to defend me while actually throwing me under the bus—wasn't a first for Mark. It was laughable how blind I was in my past life, actually believing he was looking out for me. "Dr. Evans, could you be our doctor instead?" "If we stay in the hands of this black-hearted woman, my grandson will end up dead!" Martha grabbed Mark's hand like it was her lifeline. Being treated like a savior clearly fed Mark's ego, but he put on a conflicted face and looked at me. "If I take over Sarah's patient, she'll get angry. I don't think that's very..." "It's fine. He's yours." I spoke with absolute sincerity, then turned to Jessica. "Hand Tommy Miller's entire file over to Dr. Evans." "Oh... okay..." Jessica hesitated for a second, but handed all the documents to Mark. I checked my watch. "Clinic hours are over, right? Let's go grab lunch." "Sarah, don't be so immature. The patients are right here, this isn't the time to eat..." Mark frowned in disapproval, but before he could finish his sentence, I had already walked out the door with Jessica. In the hallway, Jessica kept looking back, finally asking in confusion. "Dr. Jenkins, aren't you angry?" "Of course not." The Millers were thrilled, acting like they had just struck gold. Little did they know, the real reason Mark hadn't been promoted all these years was because he was an incompetent hack. In this entire hospital, outside of my retired mentor, I was the only one who could accurately diagnose Tommy's true underlying condition, and the only one capable of performing that specific transplant. I couldn't wait to see what Tommy's condition would look like after a few days of Mark's "treatment." 3 Martha, having grown up in a rural trailer park, was a walking megaphone. It didn't even take a day before she had broadcasted the tale of the "Black-Hearted Sarah Jenkins" and the "Savior Mark Evans" to the entire hospital. The drama even reached the ears of the hospital's upper management. That afternoon, the moment I opened the door to the Chief of Surgery's office, a flurry of papers was thrown right at my face. Dr. Davis, the Chief, pointed a furious finger at me. "Sarah, read the complaint letter from Tommy Miller's grandmother yourself!" "Attempted murder for profit, medical incompetence, disrespecting the elderly... You've really outdone yourself this time!" I picked up one of the papers and glanced at it. Wow! It was neatly typed out on a printer! For a woman who could barely string a coherent sentence together, Martha was surprisingly tech-savvy. "Medical-patient relations are already tense, and you pull a stunt like this!" "The board has decided: your salary is suspended for six months. And your nomination for the 'Surgeon of the Year' award is being revoked and given to Mark!" I looked at Mark, who was standing proudly next to Dr. Davis, and smiled knowingly. The "Surgeon of the Year" award was the ultimate stepping stone for a promotion to Attending. No wonder he went through so much effort to orchestrate this circus. Dr. Davis turned and patted Mark on the shoulder, his tone softening considerably. "Since this has blown up, the local media is actually interested in Tommy's case. You absolutely must cure him." "Tomorrow morning, I've scheduled a tour with several news outlets. You will be the face of our hospital's excellent patient care. Make sure you perform well!" Mark gave Dr. Davis a warm, confident smile. "Thank you for the opportunity, Dr. Davis. I won't let you down." It was almost time to clock out. Mark and I walked out of Dr. Davis's office, one after the other. Mark quickened his pace and grabbed my wrist. "Sarah, it's been all day! Stop throwing a tantrum!" I slapped his hand away and pulled out a tissue, wiping my wrist aggressively as if I had been touched by infectious bacteria. "I forgot to tell you, Mark. Let's break up." Over the past seven years, I had never once gotten genuinely angry with him, let alone mentioned breaking up. Because of that, Mark didn't even take my words seriously. He rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in exasperation. "You just want me to coax you, don't you?" "Fine, fine, fine, it's all my fault. Are you happy now?" "Yes, I took your patient, and I took your award nomination... but you're just not skilled enough. Is that my fault?" Not skilled enough. What an unfamiliar critique. I hadn't heard that since my first year of med school. I crossed my arms and looked at Mark, genuinely amused. "Mark, you really shouldn't think so highly of yourself." Mark stepped forward, blocking my path, seamlessly transitioning into his practiced gaslighting routine. "Sarah, a woman's career will never outlast a man's. It's just biology." "Look at yourself. You're in your thirties, your surgical skills are regressing, and your reputation is tanking." "How about this: you just resign, hand all your clinical trials and networking contacts over to me, and we'll get married right away." "Get out of my way! Good dogs don't block the road!" I didn't listen to a single word he said. I raised my right leg and delivered a brutal, precise knee strike directly to his groin. "AGHHHH!!" Mark collapsed to the floor, clutching himself in agony, letting out a shriek that sounded like a slaughtered pig. "Sarah Jenkins! You're going to pay for this!" 4 Early the next morning. The hospital was swarming with reporters. Mark walked at the forefront, followed by a massive entourage, looking every bit the prestigious hotshot doctor. "Our hospital prioritizes patient care above all else. Every patient who walks through our doors receives five-star service." "Nurse Jessica! Why are you eating breakfast? Hurry up and check the blood pressure in bed 2!" "Interns in the back! You look tired from your night shift? Go re-organize the medical files for this entire floor!" ... When I walked out of my office, I saw my colleagues being ordered around like slaves, every single one of them muttering curses under their breath. Jessica, who had already heard about my breakup with Mark, was standing with her hands on her hips, fuming. "All morning, he's been bossing around the nurses and interns from the entire building just to cater to his one patient!" "He gets a tiny bit of power and completely loses his mind!" I handed a platinum credit card to Jessica and took the medical files from her hands. "We're already short-staffed; we can't have the team burning out. Go use my card to buy everyone a massive breakfast spread. I'll go do the rounds for Emily Carter myself." VIP Room 404. Before I even walked in, I heard a vicious argument. "It's just a stupid toy piano! So what if my sweet grandson broke it!?" "Look at you, dressed like a slut! Who knows what man you slept with to get that money? You have no morals, no wonder your kid got a heart disease! It's karma!" "Yeah! My grandma said everything I see is mine! If you don't give it to me, you can't have it either!!" Pushing the door open, I saw Tommy stomping on a shattered toy piano like a little wrecking ball. Martha was standing with her hands on her hips, verbally abusing Emily and her mother. Mrs. Carter held Emily tight against her chest, her eyes red with tears, too stunned by the sheer trashiness to respond. "Destruction of private property, illegal trespassing in a private VIP room, defamation of character... the witnesses and evidence are all here. I'm calling the police." I pulled out my phone and dialed clearly. Right then, Mark's parade of reporters arrived at the door. Acting like a benevolent CEO in a soap opera, he reached out and swatted my phone down. "I arranged for Tommy to be placed in the VIP wing. I can personally pay full price for the broken toy." "Sarah, you're being far too aggressive. You need to learn how to be kind!" I crossed my arms and stared him down. "The VIP room costs $10,000 a night. You booked them for ten days. The toy piano is a limited-edition designer piece that costs $20,000. That's $120,000 total. Pay up right now." Mark's eyes practically popped out of his skull. His annual salary was barely over $200,000. This was equivalent to giving up more than half a year's pay! "What's wrong? Dr. Evans made a grand promise in front of all these reporters. Are you trying to back out now? Your 'good guy' persona is going to crumble." Mark glared at me with pure hatred, reluctantly pulling out his debit card. Noticing the row of camera lenses pointed at him, he quickly adjusted his expression and let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. "Sarah, I know you're bitter because Martha realized your skills were lacking and chose me over you." "But they weren't wrong to choose a more capable doctor. You should just admit your own shortcomings!" I rolled my eyes, too lazy to argue with his delusions, and turned to walk toward the nurse's station. Surprisingly, Mark followed me, pulling me into a secluded corner. Seeing that the reporters were busy filming Tommy's family, he dropped the act and showed his true, malicious face. "Sarah, since you're so bitter, let's put our cards on the table. Want to make a bet?" I paused. "What kind of bet?" "If I cure Tommy, you voluntarily resign your Attending position and recommend me as your replacement!" After dating for seven years, this was the first time I truly saw Mark's real face. A rotten core with zero medical ethics, willing to gamble with a patient's life just for a promotion! I was practically trembling with rage. "And if you don't cure him, you stand in the main hospital lobby and scream ten times that you're a useless scrub who lived off Sarah Jenkins. How about that?" "I want the Attending position, but I'm putting my entire reputation on the line. You're not losing out on this deal, Dr. Jenkins!" So Mark knew exactly what he was. He knew he had lived off my success. During med school, his grades were so mediocre he could never have gotten my elite mentor to advise him. I had to beg on his behalf. When applying for jobs, if I hadn't made it a strict condition that any hospital hiring me had to hire him too, he wouldn't have even been allowed to clean the floors at this top-tier hospital. Looking at his insanely confident face, I was both furious and highly amused. "Since you're so desperate for me to agree, I look forward to seeing your so-called 'capabilities'." 5 After calling janitorial to clean up the room. Mrs. Carter grabbed my hand, her eyes red. "Dr. Jenkins, thank you for helping us just now." "To be honest, I really don't know how to deal with unreasonable people like that. I had already contacted the charge nurse to switch our rooms." Looking at Mrs. Carter, my heart ached. In my past life, when Billy Miller lunged at me with a knife, it was Mrs. Carter who threw herself in front of me, taking several fatal stab wounds on my behalf. Tragically, Mark never even attempted to save me, and I bled to death. I failed Mrs. Carter's bravery, and I missed Emily's surgery the very next day... "Mrs. Carter, don't worry. I promise you, Emily will recover and be perfectly healthy." Logically, doctors shouldn't make absolute guarantees to avoid giving false hope. But facing Mrs. Carter, I bet my entire medical career and reputation on that firm promise. Mrs. Carter smiled through her tears. "Dr. Jenkins, I believe you." "Don't listen to those rumors. You are the best doctor here!" After that day, articles, videos, and photos of my confrontation with Mark went viral, even trending at number one on social media. The news outlets created a dedicated reality-style column covering "Dr. Jenkins and Dr. Evans: Two Doctors, Two Heart Patients," assigning reporters to document everything. Mark changing Tommy's bandages? Filmed. Tommy going to the bathroom alone? Filmed. I didn't participate in the circus. I spent all my time aggressively coordinating with organ networks to secure a suitable donor heart for Emily as quickly as possible. A week later. Jessica came running to me in a panic. "Dr. Jenkins! Something happened! Tommy is crashing!" By the time Jessica and I reached VIP Room 404, a massive crowd had gathered outside. On the bed, Tommy, who had been full of life days ago, was as pale as a corpse. The monitors were flatlining, screaming continuously. Mark was kneeling on the bed, using a defibrillator to shock Tommy while turning his head to scream at the assisting doctors and nurses. "Turn up the joules! Are you all useless?!" Clear! Tommy's body jerked violently into the air like a broken ragdoll, then slammed back down. Martha and Billy were sobbing hysterically in each other's arms, their previous arrogance completely gone. "It's still not working! Higher!" A male intern, sweating profusely, finally yelled out. "Dr. Evans, we can't go any higher! You're going to fry the patient's organs!" Watching from the doorway, I frowned. "Tommy's condition was critical, but it shouldn't have deteriorated to this stage in just a week. What happened?" Jessica, ignoring the reporters circling them, explained it to me. "It was Dr. Evans. He insisted on treating Tommy's condition purely as inflammation. To 'cure' him faster for the cameras, he massively overdosed him on IV antibiotics!" "Idiot." "Mark is an idiot, and the Millers are idiots for trusting him." Remembering how the Millers had murdered me and ruined my reputation in my past life, I turned around with Jessica and walked away. The male intern inside spotted me and screamed. "Dr. Evans! Dr. Jenkins is right outside! Let's ask her to come in and help!!" 6 The eyes of the entire crowd locked onto me. I looked at Mark, who was frantically searching for another instrument. "If I take over Dr. Evans's patient, he'll get angry. I don't think that's very appropriate." "However, I suppose I am a doctor with morals. If Dr. Evans gets on his knees and begs me, I'll agree." "A human life versus kneeling down—it should be an easy choice, right?" Mark's eyes were bloodshot with hatred. He instantly refused. "Who needs your help?!" "From now on, if you dare interfere with this patient, I'll make you pay!" Exactly the answer I expected. I left the scene without looking back. That afternoon, after clinic hours ended. Jessica ran over, excitedly gossiping about the morning's fallout. "Dr. Jenkins, I got the full scoop on what happened after you left." "I heard Dr. Evans pumped Tommy full of heavy stimulants to revive him. The kid is alive, but he's basically hanging on by a thread." "To prove his treatment plan was right, Dr. Evans personally ran a full diagnostic check on Tommy again from head to toe." "When the results came out, every doctor and nurse in the hospital saw that Tommy actually had a severe heart defect, and that Dr. Evans had rapidly worsened it in just a few days! It totally cleared your name..." I suddenly stopped walking. Jessica followed my gaze and saw Mark arguing with Martha in a secluded corner of the hallway. "Tommy's condition is extremely critical. He needs a heart transplant immediately." Martha cried, beating her chest in agony. "Why does he need surgery?! Didn't you say it was just an infection?! You have to take responsibility for this!" Mark, struggling to contain his impatience, repeated himself. "That's why I'm telling you, Tommy needs surgery right now. Sign the consent form so I can make the arrangements." Martha shrieked and jumped up like a madwoman, slapping and hitting Mark wildly. "No surgery! Absolutely not! If we wanted surgery, we would have stayed with that female doctor! Why did we even hire you?!" "My sweet grandson was perfectly healthy, and you turned him into this!" "You monster, give me back my grandson! Give him back!" Mark's patience snapped. Dropping the facade entirely, he slapped Martha across the face, sending her crashing to the floor. He walked over and ground his expensive dress shoe into her hand, his voice chillingly dark. "Do you think I'm some bleeding-heart saint like Sarah Jenkins who saves everyone she sees?" "If curing that little brat wouldn't get me a promotion, do you think I'd waste a second on you?" "Let me be clear. The reporters are at lunch. It's just the two of us in this hallway. If you don't sign this paper right now, I have a hundred ways to make you die of 'extreme grief and a sudden heart attack' right here on the floor." Martha was so terrified she wet herself. Trembling, she picked up the pen and paper, and shakily scribbled her name at the bottom. The old saying is true: evil is best tortured by evil. Having watched a great show, my mood improved significantly. I quietly put away my phone, which I had been holding up to record for the last five minutes, and walked away with Jessica. 7 Jessica was so creeped out her arm hair was standing up. "Dr. Jenkins... I don't recall Dr. Evans ever performing a heart transplant before..." "He has." I thought back. "He assisted me. Standing next to me and handing me tools." "Since he's acting so confident, maybe he thinks he's a genius who can learn a highly complex surgery just by watching it once?" Jessica let out an awkward, nervous laugh. "Dr. Jenkins, you have a very dark sense of humor..." I looked down at my phone, checking an email. Seeing the latest reply, I smiled. "Mark shouldn't be worrying about how to perform the surgery right now. He should be worrying about finding a donor heart." "Because I'm sorry to say, my Emily found one first." Emily and Tommy shared the same rare blood type. In my past life, Tommy was registered first and was higher on the emergency list. When a matching heart was found, Mrs. Carter and Emily actually told me not to feel guilty, and to prioritize Tommy's surgery. But what I could never have imagined was that the heart—a miracle countless families prayed for—was given to Tommy, who completely wasted it! The mother and daughter's immense grace was rewarded with the tragedy of "the surgeon was murdered, surgery cancelled." In this lifetime, no one was taking Emily's heart away! VIP Room 506. I delivered the news to Mrs. Carter and Emily. Mrs. Carter wept tears of joy, holding my hand and asking over and over to confirm. "Really? Emily can really have the surgery?" "Dr. Jenkins... I... I'm not hearing things, right?" I smiled and nodded, sitting on the edge of Emily's bed, gently encouraging her. "Emily, don't be scared. Dr. Sarah is going to prepare very carefully. It won't hurt at all." Emily's soft little hands gripped mine, and she shook her head. "I'm not scared of pain." "Dr. Sarah, make sure you don't get too tired, okay?" My heart melted. I looked at Mrs. Carter. "The surgery is scheduled in three days. I will give it everything I have." A heart transplant is a massive procedure. As soon as I booked the OR, the entire hospital knew. When I was getting into my car to go home, Mark blocked my path in the parking garage. "I heard you found a matching heart?" I ignored his nonsense, trying to close my car door. Mark shoved his hand into the doorframe, speaking with absolute self-righteousness. "Give the OR slot and the donor heart to me. You know how important Tommy's surgery is to me." "It's important to you. Why the hell should I care?" "You'll give it to me." Mark looked at me like he had me completely figured out. "Let's put aside the fact that you've loved me for seven years and could never be that ruthless. Just based on your bleeding-heart savior complex, there's no way you'd sit back and watch Tommy die." I took a step forward and whispered directly into his ear. "Then you are dead wrong." "If you and that little brat somehow manage to survive this, I'll step up and stab you myself."
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