Reborn to Break Her Cure

After my rebirth, I signed a whole body donation consent letter. In my previous life, my boyfriend's junior was a self-proclaimed miracle worker who claimed she could cure any illness—even late-stage cancer.

Every time that woman worked her magic, the same disease that she'd cured would reflect on my body.

Overnight, I was diagnosed with over 300 types of diseases, and the bones in my legs were shattered.

Just when I was going to talk to my boyfriend, he stormed in holding a checkup report. "You're unbelievable, Cynthia! You had AIDS and didn't tell me? Who was it? God, I can't believe I actually pitied you. You deserve every disease you have."

…

Yvonne took my place as a healer respected by the world of medicine.

I languished and died under excruciating pain and the public's insults.

Moments before my demise, her smug cackle reached my ears. "Your life for hundreds. You should be grateful I gave you this chance."

Then, my eyes snapped open. And this time, I finally understood how she had done it.

Second Chance

Just as I was trying to figure out whether this was reality or some impossible fantasy, a rough shove from behind snapped me back to myself and sent me staggering several feet forward.

"Next! Don't get in the way! We're all here for Dr. Melson! It took me three hours in line, and you're not cutting it!"

Claire, one of the nurses, caught me before I could fall. "Hey! She's a doctor here. Don't push her!" She looked at me. "Are you alright, Dr. Greenwood?"

This place was familiar.

Yes, I'd been reborn. In my previous life, my boyfriend asked me to teach his junior the ropes. She was a self-proclaimed miracle worker.

Our first patient was a car crash victim who had to have his right leg amputated. Yvonne Melson, however, stopped me before I could perform the surgery.

"That's irresponsible, Dr. Greenwood. We must do our best for every patient."

I stared at the medical report that stated otherwise and sighed. But to my astonishment, after a week of completely unrelated massages from Yvonne, the patient miraculously recovered.

That was how Yvonne became famous in the hospital.

Any patient that had a session with her would be cured of any and all conditions, no matter how severe. Nothing was wrong at first, until the same conditions started popping up in my body.

Every time a patient was cured, three days later, I would suffer the same pain in their stead.

Today was the third day after the would-be amputee was cured. In my previous life, today was the same day the nerves in my legs were severed out of nowhere, sentencing me to amputation and a life with prosthetics.

I walked into my office and found Yvonne had already taken over my place. My stuff was piled in the corner like an afterthought.

The moment she saw me, triumph almost flashed across her face, though she quickly forced it down.

"Sorry for using your office, Dr. Greenwood," Yvonne said. "The director said mine is still under renovation. I have patients to see, so you can just find somewhere to sit. I really envy how much free time you have, with no patients waiting for you."

After the first incident spread, people began calling me the incompetent doctor who had nearly caused an unnecessary amputation. Everyone trampled all over me just to praise Yvonne.

My reputation was all but ruined, and no one wanted to consult me anymore.

I picked up the photo of me and my boyfriend from the pile. That reminded me of his confrontation in my previous life and how he married Yvonne less than a month after I died.

I tossed the photo into the bin.

Speak of the devil. "You had a long day, Yvonne. I made stew for you."

In came Donald Flemont, my boyfriend. He was holding the stew I spent the whole night making for him, all because I thought he was unwell.

Now, he was using that same stew to please Yvonne. I nearly gagged.

Donald went straight to Yvonne as if I did not exist, then tried to feed her the soup himself.

"You've got an impressive career and an even more impressive boyfriend, Dr. Melson," the patient joked.

Donald and Yvonne blushed like they were an actual couple.

"We're not a couple. Not yet," said Yvonne shyly, then she looked at me. "Take it to Dr. Greenwood, Donald. Her stomach needs it more than mine."

All the color drained from my face. The same night Yvonne 'cured' the car crash victim, she also helped a patient down with kidney cancer.

And today was the third day.