Ashes of Longing

While I was seeing patients in my clinic, Ellie Wilson, the most beautiful girl from my college class suddenly rushed in and dropped to her knees in front of me.

"My dad has early-stage cancer. Please, you have to save him. I know you're an expert in this field."

Out of kindness, I agreed.

Then she begged me to front the cost of the surgery, saying her family was poor and she would repay me in installments once she started earning a salary.

I agreed again.

However, the day before the operation, her father, Sebastian Wilson, died in the hospital room.

The police stormed into my office and arrested me on charges of murder. Faced with what they claimed was irrefutable evidence, I couldn’t defend myself.

In the end, I was sentenced to death and died in prison.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Ellie knelt before me in my clinic.

Thud.

The sound of knees slamming against the floor made my hand jerk, the pen scratching across the medical chart mid-sentence.

When I looked up, that familiar face was already kneeling in front of my desk.

Ellie Wilson. The girl everyone used to call the belle of our college class.

Tears streamed down her face, delicate and trembling as her voice broke. "Dr. Bentley Cooke… Bentley… my dad has early-stage cancer. Please, you have to save him. I know you're an expert in this field."

My fingers tightened unconsciously around the pen.

This scene felt far too familiar.

In my last life, I had been moved by this exact expression on her face. I had softened and agreed to help her. Not only did I personally take on the surgery, but I even fronted the operation costs for her.

And what happened in the end?

Her father, Sebastian Wilson, died in the ward for no apparent reason.

When the police stormed in, she didn’t defend me. She stood off to the side and pointed at me.

"It was him. He was the last one to go into the room last night."

The surveillance footage showed the same thing. That night, I was the only one who had entered the room.

The evidence was overwhelming. I had no way to defend myself.

On the day the death sentence was handed down, she kept her head lowered in the courtroom. From beginning to end, she never looked at me once.

And now, I was reborn.

"Dr. Cooke…" Ellie’s voice pulled me back to the present. She was still looking at me with those tear-filled eyes.

"Also, could you help cover the surgery cost for now? Once I start working, I swear I’ll pay you back in installments."

They were the exact same words as before.

I took a slow breath and closed the medical chart in front of me. "I'm sorry. My schedule is fully booked."

Her expression froze instantly.

I added, "And your father’s condition requires an expensive surgery. It’s not something you can afford."

Ellie stared at me, clearly not expecting a refusal. She quickly grabbed onto my white coat. "Bentley—Dr. Cooke—please, I can pay you back in installments. I swear I will—"

"Next patient." I pressed the call button without hesitation and called out toward the door.

Nurse Natalie Shaw stepped in at once. With professional politeness, she guided the still-stunned Ellie out of the room.

I watched as Ellie kept turning back every few steps.

The look in her eyes shifted from pleading, to shock, and finally, to a trace of coldness I had never seen before.

I thought that was the end of it.

Until that night, when I was scrolling through my phone, and a trending headline suddenly jumped out at me: "Heartless Doctor Rejects Daughter’s Plea."

In the video, Ellie was kneeling in the hospital hallway, crying so hard she could barely speak.

"My dad is only in the early stages of cancer. He can still be saved. But Dr. Cooke wouldn’t even give him a chance."

The caption read: "Father with late-stage cancer denied treatment by unethical doctor."

The comment section had exploded.

"Doctors are supposed to have compassion. What a joke."

"Someone like this shouldn’t even be allowed to practice medicine."

"Let’s crowdfund. We can’t let good people lose hope."

At the very top was a comment from a well-known charity influencer: "Fundraiser launched."

I clicked the link.

$200,000 had been raised for the surgery in just three hours.

My phone suddenly vibrated. Someone had tagged me in the department group chat.

"Dr. Cooke, you’re trending."

I turned off the screen and walked to the window. The inpatient building glowed under the night sky, every floor lit up.

Behind one of those windows lay Ellie’s father. In my last life, he had died in his hospital room the night before the surgery.

The next morning, I froze the moment I reached the entrance to my clinic.

Ellie was sitting in the waiting area. Two overstuffed duffel bags rested beside her.

When she saw me, she immediately stood up, a victorious smile spreading across her face. "Dr. Cooke, I’ve got the surgery money."

She held up her phone. The progress bar on the fundraising page was completely full. "Now… can you operate on my dad?"