Because there was no official documentation of the IVF procedure, I was convicted of illegal medical practice and sentenced to life imprisonment. The courtroom had been cold and unfeeling, the judge's gavel striking down my fate with a finality that echoed in my soul.

Prison was worse.

The damp, suffocating cell walls bore silent witness to my despair. In the end, unable to bear the humiliation, betrayal and the relentless voices that called me a murderer, I lost my mind.

I could still feel the rough stone wall pressing against my forehead, the sharp, blinding pain as I slammed my head into it over and over. Blood had sprayed across the floor like crimson blossoms, staining the gray concrete with my final act of desperation. My lifeless body wasn't discovered until dawn, cold and contorted in a puddle of my own making.

The memory made my hands tremble. My breath hitched as I forced myself to focus on the present.

"Mrs. Johnson?"

Jessica's voice pulled me back to reality. Her fingers gripped my arm, the touch cold despite her outward charm. When I turned to face her, her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes—a smile I now recognized for what it was.

"You're the head of obstetrics at Baywood Hospital," she said sweetly, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "You can figure out a way to do the IVF procedure even without a marriage certificate, right?"

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. The last time, I had faltered under her manipulative pleas. This time, I straightened my posture, planting my feet firmly on the ground.

"No."

The single word left my lips like a bullet.

Jessica's eyes widened, her perfectly rehearsed expression faltering. For a moment, the mask slipped, revealing the surprise and irritation she had so carefully hidden.

"What do you mean, no?" she stammered, her voice laced with disbelief.

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I slipped my hand into my pocket, my fingers brushing against my phone. Without a word, I pressed the record button. My gaze locked onto hers, sharp and unwavering.

"You want to cut corners?" I said, my voice clear and resolute. "Performing an unauthorized procedure is illegal. I will never agree to it."

I took a deliberate step back, putting more distance between us and continued in a calm but firm tone. "To undergo IVF, you must have a marriage certificate. Both spouses must be present and the verification process must be completed before the procedure can be arranged. Those are the rules."

Jessica blinked, her façade cracking further. She stepped closer, her tone softening as she attempted to regain control.

"Oh, come on, Mrs. Johnson," she pleaded, her voice trembling with feigned desperation. "You know my situation. If I don't get pregnant, I won't be allowed to marry into Ethan's family."

Her eyes glistened as she added, "He and I truly love each other. Please, just help me this once."

Her voice caught and she squeezed out a tear, letting it roll down her cheek. She clasped her hands together, leaning in as though her proximity might sway me. "If there were any other way, I wouldn't be begging you like this. I sought you out because I know how skilled you are."

The sight would have melted my heart once, but now it filled me with nothing but icy contempt. Her act was flawless—innocent, vulnerable and utterly false.

In my previous life, I had believed her lies. I had been blinded by my desire to help and had walked straight into her trap.

This time, I wouldn't let history repeat itself.

A cold laugh escaped my lips. Jessica froze, her tearful expression wavering.

"What kind of true love," I said slowly, my voice laced with irony, "demands that a woman prove her fertility before marriage?"

I straightened, my expression hardening. "I'm done wasting my time with you."

Just as I was about to usher her out of my room, the distinct click of the front door lock echoed through the house. I froze, my gaze drawn to the entrance as it swung open. Isaac stepped inside, his familiar scent of cologne washing over me.

He stopped short, his gaze flicking between Jessica and me. His brow furrowed, but before I could say a word, he smiled at Jessica.

"What's going on?" he asked lightly, his tone far too casual for the tension in the room.

Jessica turned to him, her face lighting up with relief. "Mr. Johnson!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Mrs. Johnson doesn't want to help me with the procedure. She's saying it's illegal without a marriage certificate."

Isaac frowned, turning to me with a look of mild exasperation.

"Lola, it's just an IVF procedure," he said, his tone soothing yet dismissive. "Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Just help Jessica out. I've met the guy—he's a good kid."

My stomach churned as I watched the two of them. Jessica's lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes meeting Isaac's with an unspoken understanding that sent a chill down my spine.

In the past, I had been too preoccupied with work to notice the way they gravitated toward each other, the subtle intimacy in their interactions. Now, with my memories intact, it was painfully obvious. They weren't just close—they were partners in crime.

"No," I said firmly, stepping between them. "Rules are rules. Jessica, if you want the procedure done, bring me your marriage certificate or find another hospital."

Jessica opened her mouth to argue, but I was done listening.

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her outside. "I already said no and no means no." With a loud bang, I slammed the door shut behind her.

Isaac's voice rose behind me, tinged with frustration. "Honey, you don't have to be so heartless, do you? Jessica and her boyfriend really love each other. Can't you just help them out?"

I turned to face him, my chest tight with anger and disgust. The man I had once loved now seemed like a stranger, his betrayal written in every line of his face.

Without a word, I grabbed a suitcase and began packing my belongings.

"What are you doing?" Isaac demanded, his voice rising with panic.

I didn't answer. My mind was made up. I would leave this house and this man who had betrayed me in my past life.

By the time I zipped up the suitcase and headed for the door, Isaac was practically begging me to stay.

But I didn't look back.

I moved into a hotel near the hospital, planning to wait until things settled down before filing for divorce. However, what I didn't expect was that early the next morning, Jessica showed up at my office—with a marriage certificate and her fiancé—asking for a consultation.

"Mrs. Johnson, can you perform the procedure for us now? I did all you asked."

Jessica stood before me, her smile composed and sweet, but her eyes glimmered with malice. Beside her was a man I had never seen before—tall, well-dressed, but with a stiffness to his posture, as if he were a hired actor playing a role. I stared at them, utterly stunned. They had no intention of leaving me alone. They even went as far as finding someone to pose as her fiancé to continue their charade.

My mind raced, desperately searching for a way to refuse them. But just as I opened my mouth, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was the vice director of the hospital.

"Lola," he began in a tone that tried to sound casual but carried undeniable authority. "Jessica is my friend's daughter. I know their situation—she has to be pregnant to marry into the family."

I gripped the phone tightly, my knuckles whitening. This wasn't the vice director speaking; it was Isaac pulling strings from behind the scenes.

"You're the best doctor we have, the best in the country," he continued, his voice almost coaxing. "You trained abroad, didn't you? That's why I trust you to handle this case personally."

I stayed silent, anger simmering beneath my calm exterior.

"And listen," he added, his voice lowering, "I hate to say this, but refusing this case might not look good for you. You're up for a promotion at the end of the year, remember?"

The line went dead, leaving me no room to argue. My escape route was effectively cut off. I could almost hear Isaac's smug voice behind the vice director's words. Jessica's family wasn't influential; her father worked as a mechanic in the outskirts of town. There was no way they had connections to the hospital director, much less the vice director. This was Isaac's handiwork and Jessica's smirk confirmed it.

Her lips curled ever so slightly, as if savoring her victory.

A plan quickly formed in my mind. If she wanted a child so desperately, then fine—I would give her one. Only, it wouldn't be the one she expected.

I drew in a steadying breath and forced a smile. "Very well. Let's proceed. I'll arrange everything for you."

Jessica's glee was barely concealed as I handed her the surgical consent form. She signed it eagerly, her fake fiancé adding his signature with an awkward flourish.

"This is the procedure plan. Once you sign, we can move forward today." I placed the papers on the desk and handed her the pen, watching her eyes light up.

When the time came, Jessica was wheeled into the operating room, her demeanor one of smug triumph. As the anesthesia began to take effect, her fake fiancé hovered nervously by the door before being escorted out by a nurse.

In the privacy of the lab, I made my move. Swapping the sperm vial took mere seconds, my practiced hands moving with precision honed over years of experience. The replacement vial—a donor sample of impeccable quality—was carefully labeled and prepped.

The rest of the procedure was carried out by my capable mentee, a young doctor eager to prove herself. I quietly left the OR, knowing I had completed my part.

Without hesitation, I returned to my office, removed my white coat and packed my personal belongings. The resignation letter I had prepared sat waiting on my desk. I signed it with a flourish and handed it to the department secretary before walking out of the hospital without looking back.

When Isaac returned home that evening, he found the house eerily quiet. The furniture remained, but all my personal belongings were gone.

"Honey? Are you home?" His voice echoed through the empty rooms.

I waited in the living room, a stack of papers in hand. When he saw me, his expression shifted from confusion to alarm.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Wordlessly, I handed him the divorce papers. "We're splitting the assets equally. Just sign."

He stared at me in disbelief. "What? Lola, why are you doing this? What happened? Are you in trouble? If there's a problem, we can handle it together—"

"Spare me the drama, Isaac." My voice was cold, void of emotion. "This is happening, whether you like it or not. If you refuse, I'll take it to court. But rest assured, I'll win."

For a moment, his mask slipped and panic flashed across his face. But he quickly recovered, putting on his usual charming act and pleading with me.

In my previous life, I would have wavered. But now, the memories of his betrayal and my tragic death hardened my resolve.

After a few minutes, he reluctantly signed the papers, his hand trembling slightly.

"I'll see you in court to finalize this after the one-month cooling-off period," I said, taking the signed documents.

I thought I could finally move on, that Jessica and Isaac would leave me alone. But life had other plans.

Just as the cooling-off period was about to end, Jessica showed up at the hospital in a fit of rage. Her once-flawless composure was shattered, replaced by fury and desperation.

"Dr. Johnson is a quack! She ruined me!" Jessica screamed, her voice echoing through the hospital lobby. A crowd quickly gathered, whispering and pointing.

Her face was twisted with hatred, her voice cracking as she continued to hurl accusations.

"Not only did she make me lose my baby, but she destroyed my chances of ever becoming a mother!"

Her words sent a ripple of unease through the onlookers. Among them were former patients of mine, their own failed procedures fueling their anger.

"It's the doctor's fault then! She's the reason we can't have children!" one woman shouted.

The lobby descended into chaos, the voices of the crowd growing louder and more hostile. My students and the hospital director scrambled to contain the situation, frantically calling for security.

My phone buzzed insistently in my pocket. The hospital director's voice was tense. "Lola, you need to get down here immediately. This situation is spiraling out of control."

"First of all, IVF isn't a guaranteed success!" My voice was firm, cutting through the rising din of the crowd.

Upon receiving the call, I immediately returned to the hospital to address the situation. I straightened, meeting the gaze of each protester. "Find me an obstetrician who can guarantee conception under such poor conditions!"

The murmuring crowd faltered for a moment, their outrage wavering under the weight of reason.

"Besides," I added, my tone cold and resolute, "I resigned a month ago. Rioting here won't change a thing!"

The hospital lobby was brightly lit, but the tension in the air made it feel stifling. Angry faces surrounded me, their voices growing softer as rationality began to seep in. Some of the more composed members of the crowd started to exchange hesitant glances.

"She's right," a voice piped up from the back. It was a middle-aged man clutching his wife's hand. "No matter how skilled a doctor is, the success of IVF depends on many factors. It's never a guarantee."

Another person nodded in agreement. "And if she already quit, there's no point in causing a scene here. What do you hope to achieve?"

For a brief moment, I felt a flicker of relief. Unlike in my previous life, where I had been too paralyzed with fear to defend myself, I stood firm this time, unshaken by their accusations.

But Jessica wasn't finished. Her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted into a cruel smile. She played her next card, her voice trembling with calculated indignation.

"Even so, we did everything you asked, but I still didn't get pregnant. Doesn't that mean it's your fault?" she cried, her voice cracking for dramatic effect.

Before I could respond, she stepped forward and pointed an accusatory finger at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can't conceive because of you! And who knows if you're even a real doctor? You've probably broken some rules! That's why I'm still not pregnant!"

Her words ignited the simmering anger in the crowd. A group of middle-aged women—many of whom had failed IVF procedures themselves—rallied behind her. Their wailing and accusations filled the lobby, turning the atmosphere into bedlam.

Jessica dropped to her knees, sobbing hysterically, her face buried in her hands. The dramatic display tugged at the emotions of those watching, both in the room and online.

The faint sound of a notification ping echoed through the lobby. Jessica had started a livestream and the viewer count skyrocketed almost instantly. The camera zoomed in on her tear-streaked face as she recounted her fabricated tragedy.

"She ruined me!" Jessica screamed into the camera. "She made me lose my baby and now I never have the chance of ever being a mother!"

The comments section exploded with outrage.

[Monster!]

[She should lose her medical license!]

[Justice for Jessica!]

The mob turned hostile, their anger fueled by the vitriol online. Someone threw an empty plastic bottle at me and it bounced harmlessly off my shoulder. Others began shouting insults, their words cutting deep.

I stayed rooted, my expression calm despite the uproar swirling around me. I remembered this moment from my previous life—the same scene, the same accusations. But this time, I wouldn't let them break me.

"You claim you can never have children again—do you have proof?" I asked, my voice steady and unyielding.

Jessica's tearful performance faltered for a split second before she pulled a document from her bag with a flourish. It was a laboratory report, one she had undoubtedly prepared beforehand.

"See for yourself!" she snapped, thrusting the paper toward me. "It was because of the procedure you performed that I had a natural miscarriage and lost my ability to have children!"

Her voice dripped with righteous fury and she waved the certificate in the air for the cameras to see.

I didn't flinch. "There's a significant difference between infertility caused by a miscarriage and infertility caused by deliberately terminating a pregnancy," I said calmly.

I caught the eye of my student, who was standing nervously at the edge of the crowd. "Have a look at her lab report," I instructed. "It won't take long to confirm the truth."

The young doctor nodded quickly and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Jessica visibly unsettled.

She quickly masked her unease with more accusations. "And not only did she violate regulations," Jessica cried, her voice rising again, "she's a corrupt doctor who took countless bribes! Her own husband can testify to everything I'm saying!"

The crowd turned to look as Jessica dragged Isaac out of the throng. He straightened his jacket and stood tall, his expression smug.

"I'm Isaac Johnson," he announced for the cameras, his voice filled with false gravitas. "I'm Lola's husband. And it's true—she's done many unforgivable things."

I clenched my fists at my sides, anger bubbling beneath my calm facade.

"She abused her power, taking bribes and lining her pockets," Isaac continued, his tone full of righteous indignation. "And to top it off, her credentials are fake and her medical skills are horrendous!"

"Because she can't have children herself," Jessica chimed in, her voice venomous, "she sabotaged her patients out of jealousy! She ruined my future because she couldn't stand to see someone else happy!"

Their words echoed in the lobby and the crowd erupted into shouts and curses.

"How can she call herself a doctor? She's a fraud!"

"She's not even human—she's a monster!"

"Lock her up!"

A cup of cold coffee hit the floor near my feet, splashing brown liquid across my shoes. Someone else threw a crumpled piece of paper that hit my arm.

The hospital lobby exploded into chaos. A middle-aged woman, her face twisted with fury, stormed toward me. Before I could react, she grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me to the ground. Pain shot through my scalp as my knees hit the cold, tiled floor.

"You ruined her life and now you'll pay!" she shrieked, her voice ringing out above the crowd.

Around me, the mob surged forward, their anger boiling over into physical violence. Someone tried to pull at my coat and another even spat at me. For a moment, I thought I might be trampled.

Then came the sharp, commanding voices of security guards. "Everyone, back off! Stop this now!" They pushed through the crowd, forming a protective barrier around me. Their presence restored a semblance of order, but the hostility in the air was palpable.

Shaking slightly, I adjusted my disheveled hair and rose to my feet, my knees stinging from the fall. I refused to let them see me falter.

Moments later, the young doctor returned, clutching a file. His face was pale but determined as he handed me Jessica's laboratory report. I scanned the document quickly, confirming what I already knew: she had undergone an abortion.

I took out my phone, my fingers steady as I navigated to the recording I had saved. The room fell silent as my voice echoed through the speaker.

"Mrs. Johnson, you're the head of obstetrics at Baywood Hospital. You can figure out a way to do the IVF procedure even without a marriage certificate, right?" Jessica's pleading voice filled the room, capturing every desperate word she had spoken.

I lifted my gaze to meet Jessica's wide-eyed stare. "Your lab report shows that you deliberately chose to terminate your pregnancy," I said, my tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "You have no one to blame for your infertility but yourself."

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

"And as for your claim that I violated medical procedures," I continued, holding up another file, "here is the signed consent form you submitted along with your marriage certificate. Everything was done by the book."