While working the night shift, an ambulance brought a comatose woman named Lola Garcia to the hospital for emergency treatment.

Lola was bleeding heavily and needed immediate care.

I called the emergency contact listed on her phone.

The man who answered claimed to be her husband, and to my shock, it was my own husband!

I had no choice but to perform a uterine curettage on Lola myself.

1

When I heard the familiar voice on the phone, I hesitated while putting on my gloves.

My first thought was whether there had been some mix-up.

"Doctor, why isn't my wife answering the phone? What happened to her?" the man asked urgently.

In a voice still recovering from a cold, I patiently explained that Lola needed emergency surgery and asked him to come to the hospital as soon as possible.

"Doctor, I'm overseas and can't come back. Please save my wife! She said she felt unwell after dinner," he pleaded.

Overseas? What a coincidence!

My husband had flown abroad on a business trip just yesterday.

"Sir, please leave me your phone number so we can contact you after the operation," I said.

The man on the other end didn't seem to recognize my voice and quickly provided his phone number.

My heart sank when I heard it.

It was my husband Eason Lee’s private number.

Very few people knew about this phone number, at least not me.

I only knew it because I have a photographic memory for numbers.

I had seen it in his mobile app. The owner was listed as Eason.

At the time, I assumed it was for work and thought nothing more of it.

That was until Eason ordered medicine and sex toys to our home, and the recipient's phone number was mistakenly left as his private one.

Although the delivery man later took the items to the correct address, it revealed to me that Eason was cheating.

With a life at stake, I calmed myself and prepared for the operation.

From Lola's heavy bleeding, it seemed she had taken several emergency contraceptive pills after becoming pregnant.

Realizing something was wrong, Lola had called for an ambulance.

The emergency nurse informed me that she had taken an emergency contraceptive pill.

I calmly examined Lola who was pale at the moment.

The nurse brought me the blood test results. Her HCG level was as high as 10,000.

I was right. It indicated she has been pregnant for two months, and it was pregnancy bleeding.

After confirming an intrauterine pregnancy with a B-ultrasound, I performed a curettage to stop the bleeding.

The child could not be saved.

In the ambulance, the emergency nurse had already administered a hemostatic agent.

But Lola had gone into shock before reaching the hospital.

Fortunately, as a gynecological expert, I was able to manage her situation effectively.

The bleeding stopped, and Lola's breathing and pulse returned to normal.

According to protocol, the nurse sent the intrauterine scrapings for pathological testing.

After the operation, Lola was moved to the general ward.

After the surgery, I took off my sterile gloves and washed my hands repeatedly.

The nurse noticed my distress and asked, "Katherine? Are you feeling unwell?"

Only then did I realize my hands were red from being scrubbed so hard.

"Ah, it's nothing. I was lost in thought," I replied.

Even after spraying thick layers of disinfectant, I still felt as if my hands were covered in blood.

I had some dark thoughts. If I hadn't been on duty tonight, would Lola have died?

An operation that was easy for me might not be for others.

Not everyone could act in the crucial moments needed to save a life.

I seemed to have saved my husband's lover.

But I had also killed his child with my own hands.

Could this be the child Eason had longed for?

We had been married for many years without children, not for my lack of desire, but because Eason insisted on being child-free.

He kept telling me that he was a DINK and that if I gave birth to a child, he would divorce me!

He even underwent a vasectomy.

He informed me afterward, holding my hand solemnly.

"Katherine, I only love you. I don't want a child to take away your love for me."

Eason, always overbearing, knew that if I, a dedicated and work-focused woman, had a child, my attention would be divided.

At that time, he will indeed be left out in the cold.

But when did he have a reversal surgery?

Or could it be that Lola was pregnant with another man's child?

I’m not the type to let my imagination run wild.

All we need to do was conduct a paternity test using Eason’s hair and the sample from the procedure, and everything will become clear.

I had never embraced the DINK lifestyle. I’ve always wanted to be a mother.

But because I loved Eason, I was willing to make some sacrifices, thinking that maybe he would want to be a father someday.

This also allowed me to focus on my dream of becoming a doctor while I was still young.

Over the years, I made rapid progress in the medical field and became a leading expert in gynecology in the city.

As a successful career woman, I had fully accepted our DINK arrangement.

As long as Eason and I loved each other, not having children didn’t seem like a big deal.

But in the end, Eason disappointed me.

Lola was in her twenties. When I checked on Lola, she thanked me weakly with her large, expressive eyes.

"Thank you, Dr. Moore!"

Despite her gratitude, her eyes kept searching my face.

It was almost like she was looking at someone she loved.

I was sure she hadn’t looked at my name tag.

This meant she knew me already.

I patiently asked about her post-operative condition, but she grabbed my sleeve and tried to draw closer.

"Dr. Moore, I’m sorry to trouble you."

I brushed her hand away, feeling uncomfortable.

"Lola, your husband said he would come to the hospital later. Don't take random medicines when you’re pregnant."

Her face paled at my words, and she clutched my hand desperately.

"Dr. Moore, did you call him? How did you know his phone number?"

She looked terrified.

I was confused and explained.

"You were bleeding heavily and unconscious. Your condition was critical. There was only one emergency contact in your phone, so we followed procedure."

Her reaction made me wonder if I had misunderstood Eason.

Just then, my phone rang

It was the paternity test results, showing my husband was the father.

Lola quickly checked her phone after hearing me.

She bit her lips when she saw the emergency contact number.

It was as if the owner of the number was a demon, filling her with hatred and fear.

My intuition told me Lola was not pretending to act this way.

There was a deeper story between her and Eason.

The familiarity she showed when she saw me didn’t seem fake.

She deleted the emergency contact in front of me.

"Doctor Moore, can you please not tell him that I had a miscarriage because I took emergency contraceptive pills?" she asked.

I asked hesitantly.

"You knew you were pregnant?"

Lola nodded, on the verge of tears.

"He kept a close watch on me. I didn’t want a child, but he insisted I have one!"

I was bewildered.

"If you don't want a baby, you can talk with your husband. Having a baby is a woman's right, not an obligation. Even if he disagrees, he has no right to interfere!"

As a doctor, I couldn’t accept that she would risk her life to terminate the pregnancy.

"Do you know you almost didn’t make it?"

My serious tone didn’t scare Lola.

She laughed bitterly.

"It would be better if I had died!"

I was filled with doubts.

If Eason wanted a child, he could have told me. Why force Lola?

If he was cheating on me, it should be consensual.

But Lola’s demeanor suggested she was coerced.

Or was she acting, knowing she’d soon be exposed as a mistress?

If she were acting, she deserved an award. There was no way I could compete with her.

I watched Lola closely, looking for flaws, but she seemed lost in her pain.

"Even if I died, he wouldn’t let me go."

"He's a monster!"

As a doctor, I sought her consent.

"Is your husband abusing you? Do you need me to call the police?"

I hadn't noticed any signs of abuse on her body.

When she heard "call the police," she trembled.

"No, don’t call the police! It’s useless! They’ll make my life worse than death!"

They?

Was someone else forcing her?

I noticed she wasn’t in a normal mental state, so I sat down to comfort her.

"Okay, okay, I won’t call the police, but can you tell me what they did to you?"

"Maybe I can help you."

If Eason had done something terrible behind my back, I wouldn’t stand idly by.

Ever since I discovered his infidelity, I had given up on our marriage.

However, we had been together for many years and our lives were deeply intertwined. I wasn’t going to let a scumbag get off easily.

Despite hiring a private detective countless times, I couldn’t find any signs of Eason cheating.

Lola was my only lead now.

Hearing my words, Lola calmed down.

"Doctor Moore, as long as he doesn’t know I took the medicine to intentionally cause a miscarriage, I’ll be fine."

I wasn’t going to blindly believe her or handle this carelessly.

If Eason knew I performed the surgery, he might come to me to ask about Lola's condition.

I walked out of the ward, planning to go home and rest after my shift.

But thoughts of Lola’s miscarriage lingered in my mind.

Unsure whether Lola was acting or a true victim, I decided to remain cautious and not trust anyone easily.

I contacted my private detective, Joe Hicks, and gave him a brief rundown of Lola's situation.

After hearing my description, Joe frowned.

As a man, he couldn’t understand what Eason was up to.

If he had a mistress, Lola’s reaction didn’t fit the typical pattern.

If it was a misunderstanding, the child was definitely Eason’s.

Regardless, Eason's infidelity was a fact.

Joe decided to focus his investigation on Lola.

The next day, I went back to work at the hospital and unexpectedly learned that Lola had been taken away by a strange man.

I frowned and asked the head nurse about it.

"Did you try to stop her? Was she willing, or was she forced?"

"Katherine, she kept her head down and didn’t speak the entire time. The man ignored our advice, claimed he was her husband, and even presented a marriage certificate."

What?

I had a video call with Eason today, and he was still abroad!

So who was this "husband"?

"We had no choice. The family was causing a scene, so I had him sign a voluntary discharge consent form and let them go," the head nurse explained.

"Where's the written consent? Let me see it," I demanded.

Head nurse Rosie Green nervously flipped through the discharge documents.

"Katherine, is something wrong?" she asked.

I examined the signature on the consent form.

It looked strangely familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I had seen it before.

"There was nothing we could do about the family's demands. Fortunately, Lola's condition isn't serious, so nothing should happen to her," I replied.

To be on the safe side, I took a photo of the signature and stepped into the corridor to call the number that had been left earlier.

The phone rang for a long time.

The sound of the system gave me a bad feeling.

But I tried again.

Finally, someone answered. The voice was different, rough like sandpaper against a tabletop.

"Hello, who is this?"

Recovering from my shock, I asked a question.

"Excuse me, are you Lola's husband? I'm the doctor who performed her procedure. How is she doing now?"

There was silence, followed by the sound of something smashing.

The man on the other end cursed.

"What the hell gives you the right to kill my son?"

"You don't need to pretend to care about this bitch. She can't even keep a child. Why doesn't she just die?" he ranted.

Then, I heard the sickening sound of a stick hitting flesh, followed by Lola's cries.

"I was wrong! Please forgive me! I can have another child for you!"

Hearing this, the man gasped and hung up.

I didn’t know his relationship with Eason, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that Lola was being beaten.

I called the police without hesitation.

Joe had already found Lola's address in a suburb area based on the information I provided.

In a video he shot for me using a drone, the man in the baseball cap injected Lola with an unknown liquid, causing her to collapse.

When the police arrived, they arrested the man in the baseball cap.

Lola was brought back to my hospital due to its proximity.

Using the basic information Joe had gathered, I gave her a full-body examination. The results left me feeling as if I were in an ice cellar.