Chapter 2

Scarlett had already completed formal training and was fully capable of handling rescue work on her own.

But now, she was urgently calling me to take over this hot potato. Something didn't add up.

"Scarlett, you take over for now. My stomach is killing me. I can't step out right now. You're usually so proactive during emergencies anyway. I'm sure you can handle this one on your own."

Reluctantly, Scarlett went ahead with the rescue by herself.

I hid in the men's restroom, gazing out the window.

In the darkness, the lights dotted the paths of the hospital.

I'd been here for over a decade, and I had died here too. Over all these years, I'd worked diligently and had never crossed anyone.

If the medical dispute wasn't something the hospital could control, then the false accusation was downright suspicious.

Who was trying to set me up?

"Dr. Garrison, you need to come now! I can't hold on much longer!"

Scarlett called me for help. She was performing CPR on the patient and had already pushed herself to the point of exhaustion.

In my last life, I had persevered for half an hour because I believed that if the patient was in my hands, it was my responsibility to fight for his life.

Even if I had to use every last ounce of energy, I didn't want to give up on even the smallest chance.

CPR wasn't supposed to last that long, but it was only because I refused to stop that we saw a glimmer of hope for his survival.

After Scarlett's routine efforts, the patient still showed no signs of improvement. It looked like the patient would be declared dead.

At that point, Scarlett had given up.

I came out of the restroom but didn't go straight to the ER.

Instead, I subtly hinted to her. "When a life is at stake, you can't give up, even if there's just a glimmer of hope. If you can't push, switch with someone. If that doesn't work, use the machine."

The hospital had a CPR machine, and Scarlett knew that.

Reluctantly, she hooked the patient up to the machine. With the CPR device and defibrillator working together, the patient's heart rate returned, and he was rushed to surgery for further treatment.

Once the heart rate was restored, the remaining treatment would be straightforward.

In a choice between broken ribs and losing one's life, anyone would choose the former.

When I heard the news that the patient had pulled through, I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

To avoid getting dragged into the mess, I made sure to keep myself completely out of the rescue.

But to my surprise, as Scarlett was leaving the ER, she ran into Aidan Palmer, the deputy director of the hospital.

She burst into tears, telling him that I wasn't at my post and nearly caused the patient's death.

Scarlett, with Aidan in tow, barged into my office without even knocking. Clearly, she couldn't be bothered to play nice anymore.

When they came in, I was sitting at my desk, sorting through patient charts.

Scarlett wiped her tears and pointed at me. "Dr. Palmer, look! We're swamped in the ER, yet Dr. Garrison is just sitting here doing nothing. If it weren't for his laziness and negligence, we wouldn't have come so close to a medical accident."

In every previous rescue, patients who had died were only declared dead after confirmation.

But miracles did happen. With a doctor's persistence, some patients who had no vital signs were brought back to life.

We couldn't claim that persistence alone would always save a life. But it was better to exhaust every ounce of our strength than to let a single soul slip away.

My palms were sweating with nervousness, but I stood up and tried to remain calm. I swallowed hard and spoke slowly.

"There's no rule that says doctors can't use the restroom during work hours. While I was in the restroom, you could've asked other doctors for help. Why must you ask me?"