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.

Race Against Time

Donald acted as though he had only just noticed me.

Impatience flashed in his eyes as he yanked my arm and dragged me away from the office. "Don't get in Yvonne's way. You don't even have patients to tend to, so go home and get some rest."

I nodded, but my silence only made Donald more brazen. "I told you she was talented. Everyone used to call you the best healer in town, but she surpassed you easily. I have surgery later. You can go home by yourself."

He shoved the thermos into my arms, turned, and left without another word.

I saw him off and called the donation department. "I'm donating my whole body. Get the process done ASAP. And I'm starting from the kidneys."

The donation department's doctors were surprised to see me. "It's just one wrong diagnosis, Dr. Greenwood. Suicide is overkill."

"Yeah, this is beyond throwing a tantrum. I can see why they call you arrogant. Killing yourself just because the intern one-upped you is extreme."

Everyone wanted to talk me down and have me stay at home until everything blew over. I shook my head. This was my only chance at survival, but they had no idea, of course.

I had a rough idea of how Yvonne's healing ability worked, along with its conditions. If I wanted to live, I had to walk toward death myself and gamble with it.

Under my persistence, the doctors finally relented. But the earliest procedure they could arrange was at five in the afternoon. That was forty minutes before the kidney cancer would transfer to me.

I agreed to the schedule.

Once everything was arranged, I took the donation consent form and returned to my office.

Yvonne only saw thirty patients a day. By then, her workday was over, leaving only her and her group of admirers in the office.

"That's Dr. Greenwood. Best doctor, my foot."

"Exactly. Dr. Melson is much better. I say she should take over as department head."

Yvonne put on a show of modesty. "Don't insult Dr. Greenwood. I'd never have gotten the chance if she hadn't given me one."

Zoey Sunlese, the intern who was in Yvonne's batch, defended her, "As if! That patient would've been amputated if you hadn't stopped her. His life would've been ruined! If I were Greenwood, I'd be ashamed to see anyone, much less come to work. She should be a hermit!"

Yvonne kept pretending to stop them, but the smile on her lips gave her away.

"I have no idea what Dr. Flemont sees in her. If you ask me, you're a better girlfriend than her."

I clenched the edges of my shirt as tightly as I could as I checked the time. Then, in a voice cold enough to slice through metal, I said, "I know your secret, Yvonne."

Yvonne froze but she quickly regained her composure and feigned confusion. "I have no secret. You're letting your anger get to you, Dr. Greenwood. Perhaps you really should go home."

I stared into Yvonne's eyes and enunciated, "I know how you cured those people." Then, I looked at the clock again. "Thirty minutes left."

That finally broke Yvonne's mask of calmness. She snatched the letter of consent out of my hand, and her admirers burst into laughter.

"That's obviously fake, Dr. Greenwood. But I respect your decision if it's true. Not just anyone could donate their whole body for medicine."

Yvonne did not laugh with them. Instead, her face was twisted with rage.

"Get her!" She pounced at me like a panther, and I turned and ran for my life.

Her admirers panicked and joined the hunting squad without asking any questions. I ran as fast as my legs could take me, and I stood before the elevator, my breathing ragged.

If I could get back to the donation department, I was safe.

The hunters were closing in. I was getting worried, but the elevator finally played its sweet, sweet jingle.

"Fifth floor."

Before I could step into the elevator, a blast of agony exploded from my legs. It threw me off balance, and I fell to the ground.

The car crash victim's condition was replaying itself on my body.

Press On

Despite the pain, I crawled into the elevator. The group chasing me nearly caught up, but the doors slid shut just before their hands could reach me.

Sweat soaked through my shirt as pain surged through my body, clinging tightly to my skin. Watching the floor numbers climb, I finally let out a breath of relief.

The pain in my legs was giving way to a sense of numbness, and I knew time was running out.

The disembodied voice announced, "11th Floor, Donation Department."

The scream for help died in my throat as the doors slid away to reveal the trio standing outside. "Where do you think you're going, Dr. Greenwood?"

They were all breathing hard, but I felt as if my very soul had frozen with fear.

"God, you can run. Good thing we caught up to you, Dr. Greenwood."

"Stop messing around, Cynthia. Donation isn't a game. I can't let you kill yourself!"

"What's wrong with your legs, Dr. Greenwood?" Yvonne asked gently, though there was nothing gentle in her eyes. "Maybe we should take you back and comfort you."

Twenty minutes left until the surgery. Twenty minutes left until the cancer transfer was done. If I missed this window, I was done for.

The trio hauled me and tried to shove me into the elevator. They wanted to close the doors, but I forced them open, even as my arms screamed in pain. Desperate, like someone clinging to the last straw of hope, I crawled forward.

I sank my nails into my captors as I screamed, "Help!"

The donation department did not have many staff to begin with, and the workday was almost over. Most people were resting in their offices, and my cries went unheard.

Zoey, wincing from the damage my nails had done to her, slapped me as hard as she could. "God, you're a nuisance! Your nails are killing me! You did this to yourself."

My arms were still on fire, but I refused to let the doors close. The trio's impatience was mounting. They slammed their feet onto my hands in an attempt to make me let it go.

"You're impossibly stubborn!" Zoey grabbed her pen and uncapped it. Just when she was about to jab it right into my hand, a deep voice echoed from afar.

"This is a hospital! What are you doing, arguing like banshees?"

Tears of joy nearly streamed down my cheeks, but they dried up once I saw who the man was.

"What are you doing here, Donald?"

Donald had my consent letter in his hands. His face was a storm in contrast to Yvonne's smile.

"This is overkill, Cynthia. The head of the donation department called me and asked me to talk you out of it. How embarrassing."

Yvonne let out a breath of relief, then quickly put on the expression of someone unfairly wronged. "We just wanted to take her back, but she refused to let us. We don't want her to do anything rash."

Her admirers played along and complained about how difficult I was. Donald's expression darkened even further.

Time was running out. I pleaded with Donald. "Please, for old times' sake, take me back so I can rest. Please."

Dealing with Donald was a lot better than the alternative named Yvonne.

There was shock in his eyes. I had always been independent and seldom relied on anyone. Of course, I'd never begged for his help before.

He was going to pull me up, but Yvonne pushed his hand down. "You have an operation to handle. We can take her back."

Donald smacked his head. "God, I nearly forgot about that. Thanks, Yvonne. You're sweet. I'll leave her to you."

"No, no, no!"

Donald ignored my protests, but he crouched and pushed my disheveled hair aside. "Be a good girl. I'll pick you up later."

Then he walked off and didn't turn around no matter how much I begged. The doors slowly slid shut, and Yvonne declared smugly, "No one's coming, Dr. Greenwood."

That look on her face reminded me of the hundreds of diseases I had endured in my previous life. I refused to go through that again.

I grabbed the pen Zoey threw away and stabbed my thigh. Blood dyed my pants red. The pain shocked my legs into moving for a moment.

While the three of them were caught off guard, I slipped through the narrowing gap just before the doors closed.

They tried to come after me, but the doors were firmly shut.

I dragged my body across the corridor, and then I heard their footsteps echo. Quickly, I darted into an empty ward nearby.

The trio was shouting, and their footsteps were getting nearer and nearer. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for a miracle.

Ten minutes left.

Then, someone tapped my shoulder. "Where are you going, Dr. Greenwood?"