After giving Mom a ride home, I returned to my post at work.

To my surprise, Lindsey stubbornly followed me. "Dr. Monroe, it's fine. You don't have to apologize. I never take things to heart. It's just that Dr. Jones has been paying a lot of attention to me lately, and I'm worried he might get upset and affect your marriage."

I gave her a brief glance. "If you're bored, find something to do."

For once, Lindsey bit her lip and nodded. Yet before ten minutes had passed, a sharp scream erupted from the operating room next door.

…

I frowned, recalling the medical accident from my previous life. However, we weren't even in that operating room today. What could Lindsey possibly be up to?

The scream had come from Dr. Liam Cooper.

When I got there, Liam was freaking out, pointing at Lindsey. "Who told you to clean the robotic arm with alcohol gauze and to pry it open with your hands? Do you even realize that this Medico Surgical Robot costs at least 5 million dollars?"

Tears filled Lindsey's reddened eyes and ran down her round cheeks. She cowered behind Michael, gripping his lab coat sleeve. "Dr. Jones, I didn't do it on purpose. I just wanted to disinfect it. It looked like stainless steel, so I thought it could handle it."

Michael's face drained of color when he saw the damaged arm. But as soon as he looked into Lindsey's innocent eyes, he gently said, "Alright, stop crying. Machines can be replaced. What matters is that you're okay."

He turned to Liam and firmly said, "You're in charge of the surgical equipment. She messed up, so you share the blame. The cost of repairs will come out of your performance bonus and incentives this year."

Liam froze, shocked by the unfairness of it all.

Lindsey, meanwhile, kept sobbing. "I'm really sorry! Dr. Monroe told me to find something to do. This is all my fault. I've even dragged Dr. Cooper into it. I'll pay my share once I get my salary."

Michael sighed. "Lindsey, you have a sense of responsibility, but this machine has warranty insurance. Don't carry the burden on your own."

What kind of responsibility did Lindsey actually bear? Liam was the one really taking the fall.

The Medico Surgical Robot was incredibly expensive. Just the robotic arm alone would cost tens of thousands to replace, even after insurance.

Michael had always been strict about separating personal and professional matters. Back in my first year, dropping a pair of forceps earned me a public scolding and a docked bonus. Now, Lindsey caused damage worth tens of thousands, and he just brushed it off, making the innocent Liam take the fall.

Just then, Lindsey spoke up boldly. "Honestly, I think this is Dr. Monroe's fault. If she hadn't bossed me around, none of this would've happened."

I let out a cold laugh. "Lindsey, did I tell you to mess around in the OR? You have zero common sense, and the first thing you do when something goes wrong is blame someone else. How did you even get into this hospital?"

Before I could finish speaking, Michael suddenly swung his hand and slapped me across the face.

The slap was brutal. I hadn't seen it coming. My head jerked sideways, my ears rang, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

"Watch how you speak and act! Lindsey is just an intern. Mistakes are part of learning. As a senior doctor, you should be guiding her, not attacking her and shifting blame. Where's your professionalism?"

Lindsey cowered behind him. Her face went pale, and tears streamed down as if she had been wronged in the worst way. "Dr. Jones, please don't fight with Dr. Monroe over me. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have come…"

I touched my cheek and coldly said, "Fine. I'll pay for the damages. But Michael, we're getting a divorce."

Unexpectedly, Michael pulled out a divorce agreement as if he'd been waiting for this moment. "I was about to bring this up myself. Before Lindsey came into my life, I thought being with anyone was the same. But after she appeared, I've realized true love is different."

Michael and I had started dating back in medical school. After seven years of marriage, how could he tell me he had found his true love?

When I looked over the terms, it felt like I was losing it all. Even so, I signed without a second thought.

Liam leaned over and whispered, "Dr. Monroe, you're really taking a hit here."

I smiled faintly. Who was really losing out? That was anyone's guess.

In the end, Michael used my year-end bonus to cover the portion of Liam's docked performance pay. After that, everyone in the department avoided Lindsey like she was a walking disaster.

I assumed she would keep her head down for a while. But the very next day, the head of radiology stormed into my office.

"Dr. Monroe! What's going on with your department?" he demanded. "Who signed off on this head-to-toe full-body scan? This is ridiculous! The patient filed a complaint, and now it's all over social media. Our hospital's reputation is taking a serious hit!"

I took the form and froze. Someone had requested a CT scan for 24 body parts, and the authorization carried my electronic signature.

When I opened social media, the hashtag PrivateHospitalUnethicalDoctorOverchargesPatient was already trending at the top of the social news list.

The comments were brutal.

"Nowadays, going to the hospital just means endless scans. Doctors don't even examine patients anymore. They rely entirely on machines!"

"This doctor is insane for money. How can regular people pay tens of thousands for tests?"

"This doctor is Gwen Monroe, graduated from Camberton Medical College…"

I didn't even need a second guess. I knew exactly who could do something like this.

I locked my phone and went straight to Michael. "Michael, you helped her forge my electronic signature. This is a serious violation, and it's already caused significant damage to both the hospital's reputation and my own."

Lindsey stood beside Michael. Her eyes were red, and she twisted her sleeves nervously, looking like a frightened rabbit.

"I just wanted to help Dr. Monroe with some of her work," she said. "She's always so busy, and that patient seemed uncomfortable everywhere, so I thought I'd be thorough. I really didn't expect it to turn out like this…"

Michael rubbed his temples. He looked exhausted, yet he still spoke protectively on Lindsey's behalf. "Gwen, Lindsey used your account to learn more. She meant well but made a mistake. Besides, no real medical harm was done."

I didn't argue. I simply took out my phone and said, "If I don't get a public clarification and apology, I'll have the police investigate."

As I went to make the call, Michael rushed over to stop me. "Enough! Who are you trying to scare? I can make an official clarification. You have zero team spirit, and I don't think you're fit to be the department head anymore."

I slid the resignation letter I had prepared in advance across his desk.

Michael glanced at it but refused to sign. "How dare you threaten to resign? I haven't finished speaking. I just wanted to give Lindsey more opportunities to learn."

I smiled lightly and replied, "Of course. I'll be sure to give her plenty of opportunities."

After clarifying the incident officially, Michael began gradually sidelining me while refusing to approve my resignation. All the dirty, exhausting tasks were dumped on me.

With all the extra opportunities, Lindsey only managed to make a mess.

Sometimes she couldn't hit a vein even after eight attempts. Other times, she simply copied and pasted medical templates without even reading them—recording a basketball-related meniscus injury for an 80-year-old woman, or abnormal vaginal discharge and irregular periods for a 70-year-old man.

After receiving several complaints, Michael finally suggested transferring Lindsey to handle paperwork instead.

Lindsey shook her head, and despite her voice trembling, she firmly said, "Dr. Jones, I know I've been clumsy and caused a lot of trouble for everyone, but I truly want to become a capable medical assistant. It's my dream."

Later, she posted an update online. "Another day of causing a little chaos at work. I often feel awkward pretending to be an adult, but Dr. Jones has been patient and encouraging. He says it's rare to protect someone's innocence, so I'll keep doing my best!"

That day, the cardiology department admitted Charles Lockman, a patient of considerable stature. Despite his advanced age, his condition was stable. He was admitted for routine care and checkups.

Michael assigned Lindsey to follow along under the guise of gaining clinical experience.

In the afternoon, the ward was suddenly filled with the piercing alarm of a heart monitor and Lindsey's panicked scream.

"Mr. Lockman Senior! Mr. Lockman Senior, what's happening?"

I had been in the neighboring room with Mom and rushed over immediately. Charles' face had turned blue. His breathing had gone, and his heartbeat had ceased.

Lindsey collapsed beside him. Her face went completely pale as she screamed in terror.

I immediately stepped in, performing CPR as I yelled, "How did this happen? Wasn't Mr. Lockman Senior supposed to be stable?"

Tears streamed down Lindsey's face, but she couldn't manage a single word.

It was the duty nurse who reported, "Lindsey said Dr. Jones asked her to deliver an intravenous cardioprotective agent to Mr. Lockman Senior, and then…"

My gaze snapped to the empty vial. It wasn't a cardioprotective agent. It was a high-concentration potassium chloride injection meant for another patient with hypokalemia.

By giving Charles potassium chloride through an IV push, Lindsey had effectively injected poison directly into him.

I nearly shouted, "Who told her to give this drug? This vial was in another patient's medication basket!"

Lindsey weakly replied, "Dr. Jones said Mr. Lockman Senior needed potassium. Isn't this potassium?"

I completely lost my temper. "He needed potassium, but that doesn't give you the right to give a high-concentration IV push! Do you think human life is a joke?"

Despite all efforts, the resuscitation failed.

Charles' son, Jeremy Lockman—a powerful real estate tycoon—sped to the hospital as soon as he learned what had happened.

The news of his father's sudden death left him devastated. He grabbed Michael, who had arrived as quickly as he could.

"Dr. Jones!" Jeremy roared. "My father came in for a routine checkup. How could he just die like this?! I want answers!"

His bloodshot eyes bore into Michael.

Michael quickly shielded Lindsey in his arms. His eyes locked on mine as he said, "Dr. Monroe issued the wrong order and failed to verify the medication, which led to this serious incident. We will deal with it seriously and make sure you and your family receive a full explanation."

Lindsey seemed to find an anchor, sobbing as she nodded and pointed at me. "It was Dr. Monroe who told me to get the medication. She said it was this one. It's all my fault for being too stupid and trusting her. It's all my fault…"

Jeremy's eyes burned with hatred as he glared at me. "How dare you call yourself a medical expert? My father is dead because of you! I swear I'll make sure you rot in prison!"

Without another word, Jeremy called the police. Soon, several patrol cars arrived at the hospital entrance.

As officers prepared to take me away for investigation, I looked at Lindsey and Michael with a sorrowful, almost pitying expression.