Emergency Betrayal: Second Chances
Madam Pratt, my mother-in-law, was in critical condition after a car accident, desperately needing surgery. However, as the lead surgeon, IâLilianne Davisâstood by, casually scrolling through short videos on my phone.
My best friend, Tiffany Owens, who was also a doctor, was far more anxious than I was. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the operating room.
âLily, why are you still stalling? Hurry up and save her!â
I took a step back, clutching my stomach in pain as her face twisted in shock. âI have cramps so bad I canât even stand. You do it.â
In my last life, the moment I heard about Madam Prattâs accident, I had swallowed a painkiller and rushed into surgery, working for hours to stabilize her.
I had barely stepped away from the operating table when alarms blared.
âLilianne, what have you done? The patient is experiencing acute hemolysis!â
âCall the family now!â
Gareth Pratt stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He slapped me hard in the face. âLil, youâre a professional surgeon, yet you gave my mother the wrong blood transfusion?!â
I froze, reaching for Madam Prattâs medical report to explain, only to find that the A-type blood I had seen before had somehow changed to B-type.
The medical board arrived, and a blood test revealed traces of hallucinogens in my system.
âUnbelievable! Taking illegal substances before surgery? Thatâs a cardinal sin for a doctor!â
In the chaos, Emma Pratt, Garethâs teenage sister, grabbed a scalpel and stabbed me multiple times. Blood gushed from my arteries, and I collapsed in a pool of crimson.
As my vision faded, I couldnât understand what had happened. I had never taken illegal drugs. Besides, I was absolutely certain of Madam Prattâs blood type.
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before stepping into the operating room.