The day I retired, my daughter arrived in tears. Her startup had failed, she said, leaving her a million dollars in debt. Fearing loan sharks would come for her and my grandson, I begged the hospital to rehire me and took on every side job I could find. Days were spent in surgery, nights driving for Uber and delivering food. I saved every cent for her debt, but the strain broke my health—I developed stomach cancer. When she saw the diagnosis, my daughter held me tight, crying, “Hospitals are too expensive, treatments are torture. Chemo makes your hair fall out. The doctor said it’s just inflammation. Let’s see a naturopath—herbs will cure you.” I believed her. She talked me out of treatment, and my early cancer spread until it was terminal. On my deathbed, I discovered the truth: her startup had succeeded years before. She was worth millions, spending five figures daily, a VIP at Hermès. She’d buy jewelry to please her mother-in-law but not pay to save me. Her poverty was an act of revenge—because years earlier, I’d saved her husband from a crash but couldn’t save his leg. Rage choked me; my soul shook. Then I opened my eyes. I was back—ten years earlier, on the day of my son-in-law’s car crash. 1 “Director, my mom has decided against the fellowship abroad. She won’t be signing the contract.” The moment I saw my daughter, Chloe, walking into the hospital with my grandson, Nathan, a cold dread washed over me. Something was terribly wrong. I glanced at the date on the contract in my hands, and my heart stopped. I was back. I had been reborn at the turning point of my career. The hospital administration wanted to groom me for a leadership position, and they had secured a prestigious, fully-funded international fellowship just for me. In my past life, to stay close to Chloe, I had turned down this priceless opportunity. The hospital director shook his head, his face a mask of disappointment. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, Sarah. There’s only one spot. If you’re not going, I’ll have to offer it to someone else.” A bomb went off in my head. A once-in-a-lifetime chance. I couldn't let it slip through my fingers again. I would not hand this victory to someone else. Just as the director began to pull the contract back, my hand shot out, pressing it flat against the desk. My voice trembled, a raw, desperate sound I barely recognized as my own. “I’ll go.” The director paused, surprised. “But Sarah, it’s a three-year program. Aren’t you worried your daughter will resent you?” Resent me? Even when I had devoted my entire existence to her family, putting her first at every turn, sacrificing my own health and happiness, what did I get in return? Nothing but blame and resentment. She wouldn't even shed a single tear at my grave. Only now, in this second life, did I finally understand. I could neglect anyone in the world, but I could never again neglect myself. “The hospital has shown such faith in me, offering me this incredible opportunity to grow. I’m sure she’ll understand.” With that, I pulled the pen from my coat pocket, ready to sign. An opportunity like this wouldn't wait. But before the ink could touch the paper, Chloe snatched the pen from my hand. She hurled it to the floor. It shattered, and a black stain bloomed across the pristine white tiles, like a spreading wound. Her face crumpled, and she began to sob, great, gulping breaths that left her gasping for air. “I don’t want you to go!” she wailed. “Mom, if you leave, what will we do? Nathan’s about to start middle school—it’s such a critical time! How can you even think about going abroad now? You’re too old for this kind of foolishness!” She clutched at her heart dramatically. “We all depend on you! What will we eat? Who will clean the house? Nathan’s clothes only ever get really clean when you wash them by hand! How can you be so cruel?” So, she knew what it was to struggle. My entire life had revolved around her, a life of endless labor and sacrifice. She wiped at her tears, her face a picture of pitiable misery. “Director, you’re doctors. You save lives. Patients worship you. You’re forcing my mother to go abroad against her will! Last night, she held me and promised she wouldn't leave. I’m begging you, on my knees, please don’t force her to go.” As she spoke, she gave Nathan a sharp nudge. His face puckered, and he burst into a theatrical wail. “Grandma, don’t go! If you leave, who will give me allowance money? Mommy says you have lots of money for me!” Before he could say more, Chloe clamped a hand over his mouth, pulling him back. Then, taking him by the hand, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor in front of the director. The office fell into a stunned silence. The director was utterly flustered. “My dear child, what are you doing? Get up!” he pleaded, reaching for her. He turned to me, his expression troubled. “Dr. Sullivan, perhaps you should go home and discuss this further with your family.” I knew that if I walked out that door, my chance would be gone forever. Countless pairs of eyes in this hospital were watching this fellowship, waiting for me to falter. No matter what, I had to sign that contract. Today. 2 In my last life, Chloe cried for an entire night. She couldn’t bear for me to leave; she begged and pleaded for me to stay. Her tears wore me down, and I finally relented, deciding to remain in the country to be with her. But even that wasn't enough. She constantly complained that her life was stifling, that her family wasn't happy, that she wasn't fulfilled. After she married Kevin, I felt sorry for her, juggling a household while paying off a mortgage and car loans. I gave her every spare cent I had. She complained that Nathan was falling behind in school and that Kevin didn't earn enough. She lamented that being a housewife made people look down on her. My heart ached for her struggles, so I stepped in. I took over her household chores, cooked her meals, and did her laundry, tirelessly caring for her entire family. Finally, the day I retired arrived. I had already made plans with old friends to travel, to finally see the world. But that was the day my daughter came to me, weeping, and told me about her failed startup and the million-dollar debt. How could I bear to see her and my grandson hunted by loan sharks? So, I went back to the hospital, cap in hand, and took on any work they’d give me. I worked every waking hour. Hospital by day, Uber and DoorDash by night, saving every penny for her. Until the cancer diagnosis. My daughter fell into my arms, sobbing. “I looked it up online, Mom. Chemo just speeds things up. You won't last three months. I found a famous naturopath who can cure you. His herbal formulas have saved countless cancer patients. Each treatment costs a fortune, thousands of dollars!” I was a doctor. I knew my own body. I knew there was still a chance, that surgery to remove the tumor could save me. But she had already purchased ten vials of the murky, brown liquid. Friends and relatives all praised her, telling me what a wonderful, devoted daughter I had. I assumed a treatment that cost thousands must be made of rare, miraculous ingredients. I couldn't bear to throw it away, so I forced it down, sip by bitter sip. But the "medicine" only made me worse. My early-stage cancer raged into its final, terminal phase. For a full month, I was tortured by agonizing pain. The bitter concoction couldn't sustain me. My belly swelled with ascites until it was taut as a drum. In the end, there was nothing left but to let the tumors devour my organs, leaving me hollowed out and filled with poison. Even as I died, Chloe never shed a single tear. It was on the seventh day after my death, the day my soul was said to return, that I learned everything. Chloe and her family had been using my compassion all along, turning me into their unpaid maid, their personal ATM. They drained my salary and my pension, secretly using it to fund her business venture. They bled me dry, down to the very last drop. She had been lying to me the entire time. Her startup had been profitable for years. In just five years, she’d built a company and become its CEO. In ten, she was a multimillionaire. She spent ten thousand dollars a day without a second thought, a VIP at Hermès. She would spend a hundred thousand on jewelry for her mother-in-law without batting an eye but refused to spend a single penny on me. And the thousand-dollar "miracle cure"? It was a lie. She’d found some charlatan to prescribe the cheapest, most common herbs. The daughter I trusted, the daughter I adored, had deceived me my entire life. She was a viper I had warmed at my own breast. Even on the night of my funeral, she remained dry-eyed. Her voice was light, almost casual, as she spoke to a relative. “She should have died a long time ago. Even if I were a billionaire, I wouldn't have spent a cent on her. It’s what she deserved. It’s her fault she only saved Kevin’s life but not his leg. She condemned me to a life of being mocked for marrying a cripple. I hated her for it. I'm glad she's gone. Otherwise, I'd always be worried she'd find out about my money and expect me to support her.” The rage was so powerful it felt like it would tear my spirit apart. How could I not feel betrayed? How could I not be filled with hate? Tears of blood fell from my spectral eyes, my heart a void of despair. My entire life had been for Chloe, and my reward was to die in agony, utterly alone. Reborn, I would live for myself. This time, I would put myself first. 3 The director, caught in the middle, tried to reason with me. “Her son is starting middle school this year, Sarah. It’s a big transition. There will be other opportunities. Perhaps you can go next time.” My mind raced. This was the chance I had to seize, the greatest regret of my previous life. How could I let it go again? My voice was hoarse but firm. “Director, she’s a grown woman with her own family. She is more than capable of taking care of herself. I am ready. I can leave whenever necessary.” At my words, Chloe’s eyes widened. Tears welled up instantly, and she tightened her grip on the director’s arm. “What does being married matter? I’m still my mother’s little girl! Mom, even if you can bear to leave me, can you bear to leave Nathan? He’s your only grandson!” She shot a look at Nathan, who immediately picked up his cue. “I’d rather drop out of school than be without my Grandma!” he cried. The director’s face fell. “Now, that’s just nonsense.” He clearly thought this was a domestic squabble I hadn’t managed properly. “Sarah, I have a patient waiting. Why don’t you take your family outside for now.” The thread of tension inside me finally snapped. Seeing the director reach for the contract on his desk, I grabbed the pen from the holder and, without a second thought, scrawled my name across the signature line. The director stared, stunned for a half-second. “You… you signed it?” I pushed the document toward him, my voice steady. “It’s signed. As soon as my visa is approved, I’m ready to go.” Chloe clearly hadn't expected me to act so decisively. She grabbed my arm, her grip like a vise. “Mom, what is wrong with you? Who are you trying to punish? I got on my knees and begged you, and you still won’t stay! This whole family depends on you! If you leave, what happens to us? How can you be so selfish?” Her eyes burned with a furious, resentful glare. “If you don’t care about me, then I might as well just go die right now, and don’t you dare try to stop me!” Something in me broke. My hand flew up, seemingly of its own accord, and I slapped her, hard, across the face. In this life and the last, it was the first time I had ever struck her. The blow was charged with all the bitterness and rage of my past life. The force of it was so great my own palm stung and went numb. Her shocked, hateful eyes met mine. I stared back at her, my voice cold as ice. “Chloe, let that be a lesson to you.” Years ago, her husband, Kevin, had been in a multi-car pile-up. The emergency room was overflowing with victims. I was scheduled for back-to-back surgeries. When I heard my own son-in-law was among the injured, fresh out of one operation, my heart seized with fear for Chloe. I swore to myself I would do whatever it took to save him, to make sure she and Nathan wouldn’t be left alone. Family members are never supposed to operate on their own relatives, but the situation was dire. Only I had the specific skills he needed. Kevin couldn’t wait. After a grueling four-hour surgery, I had saved him. But to save his life, in a critical moment, I had made the call to amputate his leg above the knee. From that day on, Kevin hated me with a passion. He never missed a chance to lash out. “Why did you save me? You should have just let me die! I don’t want to live like this, a pathetic cripple!” It was the exact same look of hatred I saw in Chloe’s eyes now. Blood, it seemed, never lies. Chloe’s voice was venomous. “If you walk out that door, I will hate you for the rest of my life.” She clutched her cheek and ran from the office, sobbing. I let out a slow breath. She had hated me for a long time already. What difference did one more lifetime make? Signing the contract was just the first step. I still had three months before my departure—a probationary period for the hospital to finalize its decision. As long as I didn’t make any mistakes, the fellowship was mine. But it wasn't long before anonymous complaints started flooding the administration. The director called me into his office. “These are all coming from the same person, and they’re being sent from within the city,” he said, his brow furrowed. “Sarah, have you made an enemy of someone?” My first thought was Chloe. She would stop at nothing to keep me here. 4 “Dr. Sullivan, consider this a warning. We have a delegation from the board coming for an inspection in a few days. Don’t let anything go wrong.” This inspection was a major event. The top brass was coming to evaluate the hospital's overall performance and the professionalism of its staff. The administration was on high alert, and our days were filled with preparations. I knew that the anonymous complaints, without any real evidence, were just noise. But this… this would be different. To keep the peace, I had continued sending Chloe her monthly allowance. I thought that with her own work, she would be too busy to cause more trouble. But somehow, she found out the exact date of the inspection. And on that very morning, she appeared at the hospital. A sense of foreboding washed over me. Before I could even call out to her, a nurse came running towards me, out of breath. “Dr. Sullivan, it’s an emergency!” My heart sank. The nurse gasped, “There’s a family making a scene downstairs! They’re saying you killed their relative. They’re blocking the entrance. You have to go handle it!” I glanced at my watch. Eight o’clock. The delegation was due to arrive at the main entrance in exactly one hour. I had to resolve this, and fast. When I got to the lobby, the scene was worse than I imagined. A man in a wheelchair and a young boy, maybe seven or eight years old, were dressed in black. They were holding a large white banner with crude, crimson letters painted on it: “METROPOLITAN GENERAL SURGEON SARAH SULLIVAN IS A MURDERER!” The bright red words on the white cloth were impossible to miss. A crowd of patients and visitors had gathered. The little boy was chanting, his voice high and piercing, “Sarah Sullivan, give me back my mommy! Sarah Sullivan is a murderer!” As I stepped forward, the man in the wheelchair spat in my direction. “Don’t you come any closer! You take one more step and I’ll ram this chair into a wall and kill myself right here!” In my decades as a surgeon, I had never had a single malpractice case. I knew, with absolute certainty, that these people were actors. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder. “Isn’t that Dr. Sullivan? She operated on my son. I can’t believe someone with her skills would make a mistake like that!” “Maybe her reputation is all hype. They call her the ‘Saint of Surgery,’ don’t they?” “Some saint. She’s not even a department head yet. If she was that good, why hasn’t she been promoted?” The situation was spiraling out of control. “Charge Nurse,” I called out, my voice ringing with authority. “Pull the medical records for this woman. If there’s no record of her being a patient here, call security and have them arrested for slander.” Every patient is registered in our system. A quick search would expose their lie. My eyes darted to the corner of the lobby, where Chloe was hiding, and my blood ran cold. But before the nurse could even get to a computer, a shuttle bus pulled up to the front entrance. “Dr. Sullivan, the delegation is here,” my hospital rival, Dr. Manning, said with a smirk. “Good luck explaining this.” I glanced at my watch. Eight-thirty. They were half an hour early. As expected. The sight of the protest at the hospital entrance immediately soured the lead delegate’s mood. Even my own director’s face darkened. “Dr. Sullivan, what is the meaning of this?” he hissed, then shot me a look. “Get this under control. Now.” At that moment, Chloe burst from her hiding spot. She ran to the center of the chaos and grabbed the director’s arm. “Director, please, I’m begging you, don’t let my mother go abroad for that fellowship! Her family needs her here!” The delegate’s face was a stony mask. He turned to the director. “Director Miller, do you not vet the qualifications of the doctors you select for such a prestigious opportunity?” Clearly, my professional record was now in question. Chloe’s voice was thick with manufactured tears. “Mom, please, stop being so stubborn! You’ve already killed a patient! Going abroad now would just be an embarrassment. Why are you doing this?” My face burned with humiliation. I wrenched my arm away from her. “What are you talking about?” I took a deep, steadying breath. “These people are strangers. Someone hired them to cause a scene. I have never treated their supposed relative. I request a search of the patient database to prove my innocence.” Director Miller nodded. “The records don’t lie. Check them now.” Just as the charge nurse reached a terminal, her phone rang. Her expression shifted, her face growing pale and grim. “Understood. We’re preparing now.” She hung up, her voice tight with urgency. “Director, there’s been a multi-car pile-up in the Crestview Tunnel, involving a tour bus. City Central is overwhelmed and they’re diverting patients to us. We have twenty-three incoming, including two critical.” I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second. It was happening. It was all happening again. The first rule of a hospital is to save lives. My personal vindication would have to wait. Nurses and orderlies were already rushing outside with gurneys. The first ambulances were arriving, their sirens wailing. The lobby transformed into a triage unit. I was about to move toward the ER when the lead delegate stopped me. “Someone else can take the lead. Her judgment is compromised.” His eyes, and everyone else’s, flickered towards the two protestors still blocking the entrance. Chloe’s face was just beginning to light up with triumph when she saw a familiar figure being wheeled in on a gurney. His face was a mask of blood, shards of glass embedded in his flesh. Chloe’s face went white. A raw, guttural scream tore from her throat. “KEVIN!!!” I narrowed my eyes, looking at the broken man on the gurney. A moment later, my arm was seized in a desperate grip. Chloe’s voice was a frantic, pleading whisper. “Mom… Mom, please, you have to save him! You have to save Kevin!”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "386151", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel