1#01

1

The collision occurred in a flash; Matias leapt forward to protect me, only to be struck and hurled aside by an oncoming truck.

He was immediately taken to surgery. I, however, sat calmly, engrossed in a mobile game as if nothing had happened.

Shortly after, Odette Hewitt, the doctor overseeing my husband's care, burst through the doors, her face etched with urgency.

"Dr. Scott, your husband has no brain function! You're our only hope; please, come quickly!"

Her words pierced the quiet like a knife, her eyes pleading with me.

After all, I was the sole physician in the region who had successfully treated a patient with no brain activity.

Without looking up from my phone, I responded coolly, "As the patient is my spouse, hospital policy prevents me from conducting the operation."

My mother-in-law fell to the floor before me, repeatedly touching her head to the ground as she begged.

"Verena, I implore you, help Matias! He's in this state because he tried to protect you!"

I avoided her shaking hands, showing her my swollen right wrist, a faint, cynical smile on my face.

"Regrettably, I accidentally damaged my wrist tendon today. I'm unable to hold surgical instruments now."

——

Crimson liquid trickled down my arm in thin lines, the bright red a stark contrast to my light skin.

Matias Campbell's parents' demeanor changed instantly.

My mother-in-law, Milana Campbell, grew ghostly white, her voice quivering with disbelief.

"Verena, how could a skilled doctor like you accidentally sever a wrist tendon? Are you trying to deceive us with a fake injury because you're worried about losing your position?"

Her scrutinizing gaze pierced me, her skepticism sharp as a knife. It was understandable; after all, medical regulations strictly prohibited doctors from operating on close relatives, and securing a job at the provincial hospital had required years of hard work.

Under her intense stare, I calmly extended my injured wrist, allowing the evidence to speak for itself.

A deep, severe gash was visible on my wrist, raw, genuine, and impossible to fabricate.

Milana leaned in for a closer look, but as soon as she recognized the truth, her eyes filled with tears. In an instant, she broke down.

"You... you really can't perform surgery now." Her voice cracked, giving way to heart-wrenching cries. "What will happen to my son? My poor boy! Is he just meant to lie here and die?"

Her sobs echoed through the hallway as she struck the floor with trembling hands, a display of maternal anguish that moved onlookers to silent compassion.

But I merely smiled faintly, my voice steady and unnervingly calm.

"Then this must be Matias' destiny. There's nothing within my power to change it."

I lowered my gaze once more, focusing on the illuminated screen in my hands.

The game continued, and my character hid in the bushes, preparing to ambush an unsuspecting opponent. One hit would be enough to deliver the finishing blow. But fortune wasn't on my side. My team was struggling, and in the brief moment I'd been distracted, the tide of the game had turned against us.

A frown creased my brow as I refocused, eyes narrowing, fingers moving swiftly across the screen with silent precision.

The indifference in my demeanor must have been unbearable because Alastor Campbell's face drained of color. A man once known for his gentle nature now appeared utterly defeated.

Then, with a dull sound that broke the silence, he dropped to his knees before me, his dignity crumbling at my feet.

The middle-aged man bowed his head, a gesture he had never made for anyone before. His voice trembled, raw and shaking with desperation, his bloodshot eyes fixed on me.

"Verena, I'm pleading with you. Please... save Matias!"

"He's your husband. You can't just remain idle and watch him perish!"

His voice broke, cutting through the murmurs of the bystanders. "Even if your hand is hurt, even if you can't hold surgical tools, at least... at least provide guidance! Tell them what drugs to administer!"

The gravity of his appeal hung in the air, oppressive as lead. Around us, the crowd grew restless, their empathy impossible to contain. Several young women dabbed at their tear-stained cheeks, unable to endure the scene unfolding before them.