This Time, I Hold the Scalpel
Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting slender beams across the floor.
I touched my mobile phone, and the date on the screen made my heart squeeze— it was that nightmare night three years ago.
On this day in my past life, my colleague, Mancy Cyrus, eager to boast about her "single-handed delivery" gimmick, forcibly shortened the labor, causing the maternal patient to suffer severe postpartum hemorrhage.
After receiving the emergency call, I rushed back to the hospital overnight to save her, only to be cruelly framed by Mancy, who blamed the error on me.
In the end, I was fired from the hospital, had my license revoked, and was forced to sell the house my parents had left me.
The mobile phone kept vibrating; it was the hospital's emergency call number.
I stared at the screen, my fingertips icy cold.
This time, I didn't get up immediately like I did in my past life.
Instead, I pressed the power button and tossed the phone back onto the bedside cabinet.
In the darkness, I curled up under the blanket, listening to my own heartbeat.
Mancy Cyrus, Lambert York, Dr. Ray... those who once pushed me into the abyss—this time, it's time to repay the debt.
At first light, I showed up at the hospital on time.
In the obstetrics and gynecology office, Mancy sat crying in a chair, surrounded by a circle of colleagues.
The moment she saw me enter, she immediately stood up and pointed her finger at my nose, accusing, "Claire Michele! Why was your phone off last night?"
"The maternal patient had postpartum hemorrhage. I tried contacting you multiple times but couldn't reach you. Was it intentional?"
Her voice was sharp, deliberately laced with feigned grievance.
I didn't rush to argue back; instead, I glanced at Dr. Ray, the Hospital Director, who was standing nearby.
"Dr. Ray, Dr. Cyrus must have given you a detailed report about last night's situation, right?"
Dr. Ray's face turned grim as he cleared his throat. "Claire, come with me to my office."
I followed him inside. Just as the door shut, I overheard Mancy outside telling a colleague, "She's definitely jealous of my skills and deliberately turned off her phone to watch me embarrass myself!"
In the office, Dr. Ray sat behind his desk, his fingers tapping on the surface. "Claire, this time the matter has blown up. The maternal patient's family has already come looking for us."
"Why did you turn off your phone last night? Dr. Cyrus says it was your responsibility. How do you explain that?"
I took a document out of my bag and placed it in front of him. "Dr. Ray, this is the approval form Dr. Cyrus submitted last night to Simplify the Delivery Process, signed by our Deputy Director, Dr. York."
"Her so-called single-handed delivery doesn't comply with medical standards at all; it's a textbook case of dangerous practice."
Dr. Ray picked up the document, his expression growing darker and darker.
Just then, the office door was pushed open.
A man in a black suit walked in, followed by several men who looked like bodyguards.
The man radiated a cold, sharp aura; his piercing gaze swept over us with oppressive force.
"Dr. Ray, I am Jeremy Crowe."
"The maternal patient who had the incident last night is my sister, Linka Crowe."
Dr. Ray visibly stiffened when he heard the name "Jeremy Crowe."
As the head of the Crowe Group, he was someone no one in the city dared to provoke.
Mancy also rushed in, her face instantly turning pale when she saw Jeremy.
She tried to argue, "Mr. Crowe, it was Claire who deliberately turned off her phone last night, that's why I..."
"Dr. Cyrus," I interrupted her, pulling out my mobile phone to play the recording. "This is your conversation with the nurse last night. You said, 'Delivering the baby single-handedly will definitely make the news, and by then Claire will have to acknowledge me.'"
The voice from the recording came through clearly, and Mancy's face completely drained of color.
Jeremy's eyes were as cold as ice. "Dr. Ray, I need an explanation."
Dr. Ray wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked toward Lambert's office. "Dr. York, you should come in as well."
Lambert York pushed the door open, and when he saw the approval form on the desk, his face instantly darkened.
"Dr. Ray, I... I just thought Dr. Cyrus was skilled. I never expected something would go wrong."
"Skilled?" I sneered, "Dr. York, as the deputy director, don't you know that the Simplified Delivery Process can cause postpartum hemorrhage?"
Jeremy picked up the approval form, his fingers whitening from the tight grip. "Dr. Ray, it seems the management issues in your hospital are far worse than I thought."
"I heard you wanted to promote Lambert York to Director, but now it seems there's no need."
Dr. Ray immediately nodded. "Of... of course, Mr. Crowe, rest assured, we will handle this seriously."
Lambert slumped into a chair, his eyes vacant.
Mancy stood still, trembling all over.
I looked at them, feeling not a single flicker of emotion.
This is only the beginning. What they owed me in my past life, I will reclaim bit by bit.
After Linka's condition stabilized, I encountered Lambert in the hospital's underground parking garage.
He leaned against my car, gripping a baseball bat, his eyes cold and sinister.
"Claire, why did you have to ruin me?"
His voice was low, dripping with menace.
I stopped in my tracks, watching him warily. "You broke the rules yourself—what does that have to do with me?"
"Broke the rules?" He laughed, madness flashing in his smile. "If you hadn't meddled, Mancy wouldn't be in trouble, and I wouldn't have lost my shot at promotion!"
Suddenly, he lunged at me and grabbed my wrist.
The baseball bat slammed into my arm with brutal force, and I screamed in pain.
"Lambert, you're insane!"
"Insane? You're the one who drove me to this!"
He dragged me toward the corner of the parking lot, where there were no cameras.
"I can't let anything happen to Mancy. She's my fiancée."
"As long as you disappear, this matter will die down."
I struggled desperately, but he pinned me down with a vice-like grip.
He pulled a dagger from his pocket, its cold gleam sharp and unforgiving.
"Claire, so you're the great surgeon, aren't you?"
"Let's see whether you can still hold a surgical scalpel without one hand."
I stared into the cruelty in his eyes and felt an icy chill seep into my bones.
In my previous life, it was exactly like this that they destroyed me, step by step.
The moment the dagger fell, I shut my eyes.
A sharp wave of pain hit me, blood soaking through my white lab coat.
Lambert released me and looked at my right hand lying on the ground, a twisted smile spreading across his face: "You can still perform surgery with one hand, can't you?"
He turned away and left me collapsed on the floor, my consciousness slipping away.
I don't know how long passed before the sound of footsteps jolted me awake.
Jeremy Crowe crouched beside me, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "Dr. Michele, how are you?"
His bodyguard had already called for emergency medical services.
"Lambert..." I said with difficulty, "He did it."
Jeremy's expression instantly darkened. "I understand."
When the ambulance arrived, Dr. Ray rushed over as well.
Seeing me like this, his face went pale. "Claire, this... what happened?"
"It was Lambert." Jeremy said coldly, "Dr. Ray, you'd better give me an explanation."
Dr. Ray immediately nodded. "Of... of course, I'll have him arrested right away!"
But at that moment, Dr. Ray suddenly changed his tone. "No, Mr. Crowe, I just reviewed the surveillance footage. It seems Dr. Michele accidentally fell and was cut by the dagger herself."
I looked at him in disbelief: "Dr. Ray, you're lying!"
He avoided my gaze, his tone resolute: "The surveillance doesn't lie, Dr. Michele. Are you trying to frame Dr. York because of what happened earlier?"
Jeremy furrowed his brows and looked at me: "Dr. Michele, what exactly is going on?"
Stifling the sharp pain, I pulled a tiny voice recorder from my pocket: "Mr. Crowe, I knew they'd turn on me, so I recorded everything beforehand."
From the recorder, clear voices emerged—Lambert threatening me, the conversation when the dagger fell.
Dr. Ray's face turned pale instantly, his legs buckled, and he nearly collapsed.
"Dr. Ray," Jeremy's voice was as cold as ice, "do you have anything left to say?"
Dr. Ray lowered his head, unable to utter a word.
The ambulance roared out of the parking lot as I silently watched the streets blur past outside the window.
I was admitted to the orthopedic ward of the city central hospital.
Jeremy sat by the hospital bed, holding a medical report. "Dr. Michele, I've already consulted top orthopedic experts in the world. They say your hand still has a chance to recover."
I stared at my right hand, tightly wrapped, feeling nothing but emptiness inside.
"Mr. Crowe, thank you."
He shook his head. "I'm the one who should be thanking you. You saved my sister."
He was silent for a moment, then said, "Dr. Michele, I know what you want."
"As long as you continue treating Linka and ensure her full recovery, I will fulfill any request you have."
I looked at him. "Mr. Crowe, I don't need your pity."
"I saved Linka because I am a doctor."
"If there must be conditions to this exchange, then I hope we owe each other nothing."
Jeremy was momentarily stunned, then nodded. "Alright, I agree."
I knew deep down that this war was only just beginning.
In the days that followed, orthopedic specialists performed multiple surgeries on me.
Although my right hand wasn't as dexterous as before, I could already perform some simple movements.
During that time, Linka's condition fluctuated.
I wheeled myself to her ward to examine her.
"Linka, don't worry. As long as you follow the treatment plan, you'll recover soon."
She looked at me, her eyes filled with guilt. "Dr. Michele, it's all because of me that you..."
I smiled. "It's not your fault. It was my own choice."
After the treatment, Jeremy escorted me back to the ward.
"Dr. Michele, Lambert, Mancy, and Dr. Ray have all been secretly detained by me."
"They won't pose any threat to you anymore."
I nodded silently.
Though calm on the surface, I was clear in my heart.
Someone like Jeremy wouldn't act without a purpose.
He helped me, saved his sister, and maybe he has an even bigger plan.
But I was nothing more than a pawn in his plan.
Yet, I didn't care.
As long as those who hurt me pay the price, what does it matter if I'm a pawn?
The day I was discharged, Jeremy's driver took me home.
The sunlight outside the car window was blinding. I looked at my right hand and silently swore.
One day, I will pick up the surgical scalpel again.
Not just for myself, but for all those harmed by medical corruption.
Three days after I got home, while cooking in the kitchen, I was suddenly struck by a sharp pain in my chest.
I looked down and saw a dagger plunged into my chest, blood pouring out relentlessly.
Before my consciousness slipped away, I caught sight of Lambert's face.
How could he possibly be here?
Wasn't he locked up by Jeremy?
When I came to again, I was lying in a cold, dark room.
Darkness surrounded me, broken only by a hissing sound from a corner.
It was snakes!
I trembled in terror, trying to stand, only to realize my hands and feet were bound.
The room's door creaked open, and Jeremy stepped inside, holding a lantern.
His gaze was icy, devoid of any warmth: "Claire, you have truly disappointed me."
I looked at him, puzzled: "Mr. Crowe, what do you mean?"
"What do I mean?" He threw a photo in front of me. "You conspired with Lambert to kill Linka and wanted to seize the Crowe Group's assets. Did you think you can fool me?"
The photo showed a "joint picture" of Lambert and me—clearly doctored.
There was also a "cooperation agreement" bearing my "signature," which was forged as well.
"Mr. Crowe, this isn't true! Lambert framed me!"
I hurriedly tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen at all.
"Dr. Michele, I gave you a chance, but you didn't cherish it."
He turned and walked to the door. "This place is a snake pit. Whether you survive depends on your luck."
The door closed, leaving only the hissing of snakes in the room.
I curled up in the corner, tears streaming down uncontrollably.
Why?
After everything I did to save his sister Linka, this is the thanks I get?
I lost track of time until I heard hurried footsteps outside.
The door was pushed open, and Jeremy's bodyguard rushed in, rescuing me.
"Dr. Michele, please hurry with us! Miss Crowe's condition has deteriorated!"
I was brought to Linka's hospital room. She lay on the bed, pale as a ghost, breathing weakly.
Jeremy stood at her bedside, eyes filled with desperation. "Dr. Michele, please, save her!"
Despite the sharp pain wracking my body, I examined Linka carefully.
The test results sent a cold shiver down my spine—it was drug poisoning, and the critical window for treatment was already lost.
"Mr. Crowe, I am truly sorry."
I met his gaze, voice heavy with regret. "Linka was poisoned by taking the wrong medication. At this point, there's nothing more we can do."
"I am a doctor, driven by compassion, but I am not all-powerful."
Jeremy suddenly knelt before me, his voice choked with emotion: "Dr. Michele, please, find another way. Whatever the cost, I am willing!"
I shook my head, tears streaming down: "Mr. Crowe, I'm sorry. I truly have no way to help."
He collapsed onto the floor, staring at Linka lying on the hospital bed, letting out a cry of utter despair.
I looked at him, feeling no trace of schadenfreude.
Only a boundless sorrow.
After Linka passed away, I took some time off before returning to work at the hospital.
That day, I received an invitation — a Thank-You Banquet hosted by Jeremy, inviting all the hospital's medical staff.
I hesitated for a moment, but in the end, decided to go.
I wanted to find out exactly what Jeremy was planning.
After all, we were all victims in this conspiracy.
The banquet was held at the Crowe Group's hotel, lavishly decorated and brilliantly illuminated.
The moment I stepped into the banquet hall, I spotted a familiar figure — Lambert York.
He wore a suit, looking haggard, his eyes darting nervously.
Mancy and Dr. Ray were also there, standing in the corner, their faces dark with displeasure.
Confusion churned inside me. Weren't they supposed to be held captive by Jeremy? How were they here?
Just then, the doors to the banquet hall were thrown open.
A group of men in black suits strode in, brandishing handcuffs.
"Lambert York, Mancy Cyrus, Dr. Ray—you're suspected of illegal escape. Come with us now!"
Lambert and the others paled. They tried to flee but were stopped by the bodyguards.
"Jeremy! You deceived us!" Mancy screamed. "You said if we came to the banquet, you'd let us live!"
Jeremy descended from the second floor, holding a glass of red wine. "I did say it, but I never said you'd make it out alive."
He snapped his fingers, and the giant screen in the banquet hall suddenly lit up.
On it played footage of Mancy, Lambert, and Dr. Ray plotting to escape abroad.
There were also recordings of their schemes to further frame me.
"Dr. Cyrus, do you really think fleeing overseas will keep you safe?"
Jeremy's voice was chilling. "What you did to Linka—I'll make you pay double."
No sooner had the words fallen than several bodyguards took Mancy away. Not long after, they pushed in a cart covered with a white cloth.
The white cloth was pulled back, revealing Mancy's corpse—dismembered into four parts, a gruesome sight.
Lambert saw this and collapsed to the ground, trembling violently.
"No... please, don't kill me..."
He crawled over and grabbed my pant leg. "Dr. Michele, please, save me!"
"We're colleagues—you can't just watch someone die!"
"You forgot—I even helped you before!"
I looked at him, my gaze ice-cold: "Lambert, when you helped me, it was only to use me."
"Now that you're begging me, it's just your pursuit to save your own life."
"What you did to me, I will never forget."
He let go in desperation and was dragged out by the bodyguards.
Later, I heard that Lambert was locked in a room filled with ice.
He tried to hang himself, but before the noose could tighten, the ice began to melt.
In the end, he drowned in the icy water, suffocating to death in his despair.
Dr. Ray was so terrified when he saw Mancy's tragic state that he literally died of fright.
This Thank-You Banquet turned into a bloody trial.
I stood in the banquet hall, staring at the chaos strewn across the floor, my mind utterly blank.
This was Jeremy's way of revenge—brutal, yet deeply satisfying.
The day after Dr. Ray's death, I received a message from Jeremy; he wanted to meet me at H Bay.
When I arrived, Jeremy sat on a rock, cradling an urn—the one holding Linka's ashes.
The sea breeze blew through his hair, and he looked worn down, stripped of his usual icy aloofness.
"Dr. Michele, you've come."
His voice was hoarse, heavy with exhaustion.
I sat down beside him without saying a word.
"Linka loved this place most before she passed. She said when the sea breeze brushed her face, it felt like her mother's hand."
He opened the urn and gradually scattered the ashes into the sea.
"I grew up without parents; Linka was the only family I had."
"I worked hard to make money, to build the Crowe Group—all to give her the best life possible."
"But I never imagined that in the end, I still couldn't protect her."
His tears fell, dropping into the sea, and vanished instantly.
"Dr. Michele, I know you were innocent."
"It was my fault for throwing you into the snake pit before."
He pulled a document from his pocket and handed it to me: "This is the Equity Transfer Agreement of the Crowe Group. I am transferring all my shares to you."
"There's also a will, and I've had it notarized."
"After I die, all my assets will be used to establish a medical foundation in your name — the Claire Medical Fund."
I stared at the document, stunned. "Mr. Crowe, why are you doing this?"
He smiled sadly, the sorrow evident in his expression: "I have killed so many people; my hands are stained with blood."
"I know—I will face retribution sooner or later."
"Consider this Foundation as my compensation to Linka, and also as my apology to you."
He stood up and gazed at the sea. "Dr. Michele, thank you for saving Linka."
"From now on, the Crowe Group and the Foundation will be yours to lead."
With that, he leapt into the sea.
I tried to grab him, but it was already too late.
The powerful currents quickly swallowed his figure beneath the waves.
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