I’m known as the good guy at the hospital. When Patricia Adams was hospitalized after a car accident and came to me for help, as her attending physician, I often helped cover her medical expenses out of sympathy. She was very grateful to me, promising she’d get a job after discharge to pay me back. However, after her discharge, she didn’t repay the money. Instead, she pulled out an ultrasound report and told me she was pregnant with my husband Ethan Perez’s child. I was shocked because he had died in a car accident ten years ago. And from receiving his body to the cremation, I handled everything myself. What made it even more unbelievable was that after Patricia gave birth to the child, a paternity test proved the child was indeed Ethan’s. Then she took me to court. She accused me of using my position during her treatment to treat her as a breeding tool, injecting Ethan’s frozen sperm into her body, causing her to become pregnant and bear his child. Once the incident was exposed, it caused a nationwide uproar. The hospital fired me, and netizens cursed me as a demon doctor. Eventually, I was cyberbullied to the point of jumping off a bridge to commit suicide. But even until my death, I couldn’t understand how Patricia became pregnant with Ethan’s child. After all, he had never frozen any sperm, and I had never done anything to her. When I woke up, I was reborn to the day before the incident happened. ***** Patricia walked quickly toward me. “Dr. Cooper, thank you. You’re really a good person. Once I’m discharged, I’ll get a job and earn money to pay you back.” As her voice rang out, my mind began to clear. I stared intently at Patricia. She looked moved and sincere, completely different from the woman who had aggressively confronted me with that ultrasound report. Only now did I realize I had returned to the day of Patricia’s discharge. And tomorrow would be the beginning of my life’s tragedy. Thinking of the overwhelming cyberbullying that would follow, my whole body trembled. Finally, I gritted my teeth and barely managed to say, “Take… take care of yourself.” Patricia thanked me again before leaving the ward with her bag. I noticed her slightly protruding abdomen and fell into deep thought. It’s hard for doctors to take time off, but I managed to get half a day off by claiming I wasn’t feeling well. Back home, I opened my social media account. It was a personal account created by the hospital’s publicity department, with some educational videos posted daily. I didn’t have many followers, just a few thousand. The comments were even fewer. I was just an ordinary doctor at an unremarkable hospital. But I knew that by this time tomorrow, my accounts on all platforms would be caught in an endless tornado of cyberbullying. Moreover, even the comments under the hospital’s official account would be filled with abuse and curses directed at me. “What a shameless doctor! Did a dog eat your conscience?” “You can’t have children so you harm young girls. You’re simply a demon!” “You deserve to die! I hope you get hit by a car the moment you step outside.” “You’re a disgrace to the medical profession. Why don’t you just die?” When I saw these comments back then, my heart sank. I felt depressed and gloomy. Thinking of this, I deleted all my videos. Since this account was registered by the hospital, I couldn’t deactivate it. Although I knew this wouldn’t help much, at least I wouldn’t wake up to see thousands of curses. I leaned back on the sofa, carefully thinking through every detail of what happened in my previous life. Then I desperately realized that this situation was almost unsolvable. Patricia would still come to the hospital tomorrow and throw that ultrasound report in my face. I would still be attacked by everyone. But I didn’t understand why she would be pregnant with Ethan’s child. He had clearly died 10 years ago!
I thought to myself: “Could it be that even with a second chance at life, I’d have to go through the same ordeal again?” I absolutely refused to accept this! I paced back and forth in the living room, from dawn until dusk. Every time I thought of Patricia, I was filled with rage. She had been hospitalized for fractures from a car accident, and I was her attending physician. Patricia was very young and sweet-talking. Her warmth toward me was just a disguise to deceive me. She claimed her family was poor and that she had no money as a recent graduate. So I paid her hospital bills. It was precisely these acts of kindness that made her think I was weak and easy to manipulate. Ethan had been dead for 10 years—there was no way Patricia could be pregnant with his child. I thought she had developed a mental illness and even wanted to refer her to a psychiatrist I knew. But I never expected that Patricia would report me to the hospital the very next day. She claimed that during her hospitalization, I had implanted Ethan’s frozen sperm into her body, using her as a breeding tool. She even forged chat records of me threatening her and had a well-known blogger expose me. It wasn’t until the police showed up at my door that I realized how serious the situation was. I considered myself upright and kind. Even at the police station, I showed no fear whatsoever. But Patricia insisted that the child in her womb was Ethan’s. Moreover, she was determined to carry the baby to term and have a paternity test done. I thought she had truly lost her mind. To prove my innocence, I handed over a lock of Ethan’s hair that he had left behind to the police. But what I never expected was that after Patricia gave birth, the police conducted a paternity test that proved her child was indeed Ethan’s! The moment I learned the results, I was completely stunned. An invisible net had trapped me tight, and no matter how hard I struggled, it was useless. The concrete evidence made my protests seem pale and powerless. The police came to the hospital and handcuffed me in front of everyone, dragging me into the police car. The “demon doctor” incident caused a sensation across the internet. Patricia took me to court. In the end, she proposed a settlement, but her condition was that I had to give her all my assets—my house, car, and money. In desperation, I agreed to her terms. As Patricia left the courthouse, she told everyone: “I believe in the law. I believe justice will ultimately triumph over evil!” I left New York and moved to a small county town, where I opened a small clinic. Just when I thought my life was starting over, online harassment followed. Those so-called righteous netizens threw feces and garbage at my clinic every day. Whenever patients came to the clinic, they would stand at the entrance with banners, denouncing me as the demon doctor. I lived every day in anxiety and fear. Meanwhile, Patricia made a fortune by exploiting her tragic story and her child, plus live-streaming to sell products. “Everyone, I will live well with my child. What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.” Watching Patricia’s strong mother persona during her live streams completely shattered my mental state. On a rainy night, I chose to drown myself in the river. Recalling the bone-chilling river water and the agony of suffocation, I couldn’t help but shudder. If things still couldn’t be reversed, then what I could do now was minimize the damage to myself. I turned to look at Ethan’s portrait on the wall. Then I called my high school classmate Jacob Foster, who worked as a private investigator. I asked him to help me investigate Patricia’s background. Whatever she had done would surely leave traces. After preparing everything, I burned that lock of Ethan’s hair in one swift motion.
The house felt empty at night, with only the sound of my breathing echoing in the silence. I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. I stayed awake until dawn broke. In the morning, I hastily splashed water on my face. Just as I was about to have breakfast, my phone suddenly rang. I picked it up and saw a message from Patricia. [Dr. Cooper, I’m feeling a bit unwell today. Do you think I need to go to the hospital?] Seeing this text, I suddenly recalled scenes from my past life. Patricia had also taken the initiative to text me like this, then said a bunch of nonsensical things. Later, she used these chat records to paint me as a vicious demon doctor. My fingers trembled slightly on the phone screen. After thinking for two minutes, I replied: [You can, but I took the day off today and I’m not at the hospital. You should see another doctor.] [Oh, I see. Then never mind. You know my condition best. I’ll wait until you have time. If another doctor examines me, you wouldn’t feel at ease either.] I frowned and bit my lip hard. Every sentence, every word from Patricia was a trap! In my past life, I just thought she was talking nonsense and foolishly went along with her replies. I never imagined she would later use those chat records to frame me. I typed back: “We’re a first-class hospital. You just have a broken arm – any doctor can handle it. You should trust their professional skills.” The chat window kept showing “typing…” at the top. It seemed Patricia was also thinking of a strategy. [Right, right, you’re absolutely correct. I’m so sorry. Dr. Cooper, my job search might have to be delayed for a few days.] [You’ve helped me so much, and I should repay you. But I’m pregnant now and it’s inconvenient to move around, making job hunting quite difficult.] Reading this, rage burned in my heart! In my past life, I pitied her. When she said job hunting was inconvenient, I immediately transferred her $5,000 to let her rest for a month. But my kindness was interpreted by netizens as: I knew she was carrying Ethan’s child and transferred money out of guilt. I continued typing: [I paid your hospital bills out of sympathy, but I’m not financially well-off either. I hope you’ll pay me back promptly after finding a job.] After sending that, she never replied again. I sat at the dining table and slowly exhaled. I had finally changed something. In this lifetime, I would never live so miserably again. After breakfast, I still went to the hospital. Sitting in the consultation room, I calmly treated patients. Since Patricia knew I wasn’t at the hospital today, she wouldn’t come looking for me this afternoon. At least today, that ultrasound report wouldn’t appear in front of me. During lunch in the cafeteria, my phone vibrated on the table. It was actually a message from Jacob! I thought to myself: “He’s that efficient?” [Olivia, check your email. I hacked into Patricia’s computer, and there’s some very interesting stuff inside.] I quickly finished eating, hastily wiped my mouth, and rushed to my office. Jacob sent me a compressed file. After opening it, there were photos, videos, and some of Patricia’s personal information. I put on my headphones and opened the files. The video Jacob sent was footage from a home security camera. In the video, a man stood with his back to the camera, holding a wooden stick. Patricia stood in front of him, pale-faced but resolute. “Come on, I can take it.” The man’s voice was deep: “Don’t worry. Once our plan succeeds, everything that belongs to Olivia – the money and the house – will be ours. Then I’ll give you a good life.” My mind went blank. That voice sounded so familiar! Patricia closed her eyes tightly, her hands protectively covering her belly, her voice trembling: “That’s right! I’m already pregnant. Once the paternity test is done, she won’t be able to refute it. We’re about to succeed.” The next second, the man suddenly swung the wooden stick and struck Patricia’s arm directly. She screamed in agony as her arm immediately bent at a grotesque angle. The man quickly stepped forward to support Patricia. In the footage, his face was vaguely visible. I stared in shock, my face almost pressed against the computer screen. He looked exactly like Ethan!
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