I turned my back on him and walked out of the exam room. Didn't look at him once.

Outside the operating room, Jack was pacing back and forth, visibly agitated.

I'd already changed into surgical scrubs, mask and cap on, ready to go in.

He called out to me.

I stopped.

He hesitated, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes：

“You……”

“You wouldn't sabotage anything on the operating table, would you?”

I could barely believe what I was hearing. It was almost laughable.

“You really think I'm that kind of person?”

“How would I know? You hate us right now. What if you use this to get back at her?”

“No. I'm not letting you operate on her alone.”

He turned to the director standing nearby：

“Director Lambert, I want a different doctor. Or at least add another doctor in there with her.”

Director Lambert frowned, barely containing his anger：

“Mr. Delgado, Dr. Pruitt is the best OB-GYN in this hospital. She's performed well over a hundred procedures like this without a single complication.”

“Her professional integrity is recognized by every person in this building. If you don't trust her, you're welcome to transfer to another hospital right now.”

He turned and walked away without another word.

Jack's face went white, then gray.

Of course he didn't dare transfer.

Lavinia's condition was already critical. Any more delay and she could die.

All he could do was clench his jaw and watch me walk through those doors.

The operating room doors closed slowly behind me, sealing off everything outside. I took a deep breath, picked up the scalpel.

In that moment, I wasn't Jack Delgado's wife. I was just a doctor.

The surgery took three hours.

When I stepped out, it was already three in the afternoon.

I hadn't had a sip of water since morning.

I pulled my mask down, and the world went black. My legs gave out and I hit the floor.

The last thing I heard before everything disappeared was Jack's voice, frantic：

“Viola, how's Lavinia? Is she okay?”

I couldn't give him any answer at all.

Each passing second chewed through what little patience Jack had left.

Just before he could explode, a nurse came out of the operating room.

She spotted me on the floor immediately and rushed over：

“Dr. Pruitt! Dr. Pruitt, what happened?”

She pulled a piece of candy from her pocket with practiced ease and slipped it into my mouth.

“Oh no, your blood sugar crashed again!”

“You've been working three days straight. Two surgeries last night, and then straight into this one today. Nobody's body can take that.”

Only then did Jack notice how pale I was.

He froze for a second, then frowned.

The nurse answered him flatly：

“Low blood sugar. She passed out.”

He scoffed：

“Whose fault is that but her own?”

“She's faking it. Collapsing right now on purpose so I'll feel guilty. This is her way of getting back at me.”

I'd barely caught my breath when I heard those words.

My heart went dead. Completely, finally dead.

I pushed the nurse's hand away and got to my feet, slowly.

“Lavinia is out of danger.”

“The nurses will take care of her from here. You can go see her now.”

I turned and walked away.

Didn't look at him once.

The next morning.

I'd just reached the door to Lavinia's room when I heard her voice drifting out—saccharine-sweet, dripping with helplessness：

“Jack, my stomach really hurts……”

“Do you think that doctor messed up the surgery?”

“I read a story online about a surgeon who left a scalpel inside a patient during a C-section. And another one who left gauze in there, and the patient got an infection and almost died.”

“Jack, will I also……I'm so scared……”

Jack's voice went soft, soothing：

“Stop overthinking. You'll be fine.”

Lavinia only cried harder：

“But it really hurts so much……”

“And I keep feeling dizzy and nauseous, like my whole body's wrong.”

“Jack, do you think that Dr. Pruitt did it on purpose? She hates me so much, she must want to get back at me……”

I pushed the door open and walked in.

Lavinia's crying cut off instantly.

She shrank into Jack's arms without thinking.

Jack looked up at me, his expression darkening on the spot.

“Viola. Perfect timing.”

“Lavinia's stomach hurts, she's dizzy, she's nauseous—what the hell did you do to her in that surgery?”

I looked at him. My voice was steady：

“The surgery was successful. Mild abdominal pain and nausea are normal post-op reactions. They'll pass in a few days.”

He curled his lip in a cold smile：

“What kind of 'normal reaction' hurts like that? You're just getting back at her and you know it.”

“If you're going to make accusations, bring evidence. You can check the surgical records or have another doctor examine her. If there really was a problem with my procedure, I'll take full responsibility.”

He laughed in disbelief, shoving to his feet：

“Take responsibility? If something happens to Lavinia, you think responsibility covers it?”

I looked at him and felt nothing but exhaustion：

“Suit yourself. I still have other patients to see. If you need something, call the nurse.”

I turned to leave.

He grabbed my arm：

“Don't you walk away from me!”

I wrenched free.

That was when Lavinia let out a sharp scream and collapsed flat on the bed.

Jack startled, lunging to the bedside：

“Lavinia! Lavinia, what's wrong? Wake up!”

She didn't respond at all.

Jack whipped around and fixed me with a vicious glare：

“What did you do to her?”

“I didn't do anything.”

“And you still dare stand there and deny it!”

He rushed at me and seized my collar：

“You came in here on your rounds and drugged her, didn't you! You vicious woman!”

“If she doesn't wake up today, I'll kill you!”

Then he raised his hand and slapped me across the face.

A sharp crack. My head snapped to the side, blood seeping from the corner of my mouth.

The entire room went silent.

Jack froze too.

He stared at his own hand, a flicker of panic in his eyes.

It was gone almost instantly, swallowed by anger.

“You brought this on yourself.”

I turned my head back slowly and looked at him.

No expression on my face.

Whatever was left inside me died right there.

I reached up and gently pushed his hand away.

Smoothed the wrinkles he'd twisted into my white coat.

Then I turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

Back in my office, I took out my phone.

I called a college friend who'd become a lawyer.

Asked her to draft divorce papers for me as fast as she could.

After I hung up, I stared out the window.

The sun was bright. Inside me, everything was ice.

My phone rang.

I thought it was my friend calling back with an update and answered quickly.

The next second, my mother-in-law's voice came through, scorching with fury：

“Viola! You shameless, worthless woman! I must have been out of my mind letting you into this family! Can't have a baby yourself so you won't let anyone else have one either! How can you be so vicious!”

“I heard all about it. That poor girl was carrying Jack's child and nearly died! Ectopic pregnancy, my foot—we never had anything like that in our family before. You're the doctor. You must have done something to her!”

“Ever since you married into this family, we haven't had a single day of peace! And now you want to kill my grandchild? What kind of person are you?”

“I'm warning you, Viola. If anything happens to my grandchild, I will make you pay with your life!”

The more she screamed, the more worked up she got.

I listened in silence.

The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe.

Nine years of giving everything I had, and in the end, none of it mattered as much as the lump of flesh in Lavinia's belly.

When she'd finally run out of venom, I spoke, slowly：

“Mrs. Delgado, ectopic pregnancies are usually caused by the patient taking contraceptives on her own. The hospital's diagnostic report is stamped and sealed—no one can alter it. You want answers, ask your precious son.”

I hung up before she could respond.

Then I blocked her number.

Half an hour later, my classmate sent over the divorce papers.

I printed them out, signed my name, and headed toward Lavinia's ward with the papers in hand.

But the moment I reached the doorway, I froze.

The room was packed. Reporters everywhere, cameras on every shoulder.

President Bennett and Director Lambert stood in the middle, sweating through their explanations.

Jack stood off to one side, his expression dark.

The second he saw me, every lens in the room swung in my direction.

“Dr. Pruitt, is it true you made a critical error during surgery that caused the patient's massive hemorrhage?”

“Online sources say you deliberately retaliated against the patient over a personal grudge—is that true?”

“There are allegations that your specialist title was obtained through connections and that you lack real qualifications. Is that accurate?”

The questions hit me from every side, one on top of another.

I was penned in. Couldn't move.

President Bennett waved his hands frantically：

“Everyone, please! The hospital is currently investigating this matter, and we will provide a satisfactory response!”

Jack cut through him, voice cold：

“Investigate what? The facts are right here.”

“She took a personal grudge into that operating room, botched the surgery, and nearly killed my girlfriend.”

“My girlfriend is still in the operating room right now. They don't even know if she'll make it.”

He jabbed a finger at me, eyes venomous：

“And this killer right here is walking around like nothing happened—clocking in, doing her rounds!”

“A doctor this cold-blooded, this devoid of ethics, has no business being anywhere near patients!”

“I demand that Viola Pruitt get on her knees right now, in front of every camera in this room, and apologize to my girlfriend! Admit what she did!”

I watched him screaming himself hoarse, championing justice for another woman, and the irony hit me like something physical.

He was the one who cheated.

He brought his mistress to my hospital and forced me to save her.

And now, to avenge that same mistress, he was twisting every fact to destroy me.

I took a deep breath and forced the fury back down.

“Jack Delgado, you know exactly what you've done.”

“You cheated——”

“Shut your mouth!”

Before I could finish, he lunged at me.

The slap cracked through the room like a gunshot.

Another one.

This time he put his whole body behind it.

I staggered back several steps, nearly falling.

One of my teeth knocked out of my mouth.

Jack pointed straight at my face, screaming：

“Viola! Say one more word and I'll rip your mouth apart!”

Then he turned on President Bennett：

“I want a decision on Viola Pruitt—now. Or I take this above your heads and make sure this hospital's reputation is finished!”

President Bennett looked at me, then at the wall of reporters around us.

He hesitated for a long moment, then let out a sigh.

“Viola, for the sake of the hospital's reputation, you're on administrative leave, effective immediately.”

Administrative leave — for a doctor on the rise, it was a career death sentence.

And Jack still wasn't satisfied.

He let out a cold laugh：

“That's it?”

“A human life isn't even worth someone's job to you people?”

The words barely left his mouth.

A mob surged through the ward doors, hoisting banners.

Eight bold characters across the fabric：

“A LIFE FOR A LIFE — JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED!”

They chanted as they pushed inside.

The ward dissolved into chaos.

The livestream chat exploded, and the story shot straight to the top of trending.

The hospital's reputation cratered in real time.

President Bennett was cornered. He gritted his teeth.

“Fine!”

“Effective immediately, Viola Pruitt is terminated from all duties at this hospital!”

I stood frozen — then laughed, laughed until tears spilled down my face.

Jack frowned：

“What are you laughing at?”

I didn't answer him.

I looked at President Bennett and nodded.

“Fine. I accept the decision.”

Jack had just started to relax.

The next second, I pulled the divorce papers from my bag.

And held them up to the cameras.

I looked straight at Jack, every word deliberate：

“I accept the hospital's punishment. I accept kneeling and apologizing to Miss Fox. But before any of that, there's something I need to say.”