Perfect Timing
My mother had been a murderer.
Her surgery skills had been top-notch, yet on the day my father and I had almost died in a car accident, she turned into another man's arms to help him with a physical therapy massage.
After they finished, they went on a date at a cafe while they chatted happily, while my father died on the cold surgery table. It had only been the next day when the staff from the morgue found me on the brink of death.
My grandmother raised me with her callused hands for the past 40 years. She put me through the best medical schools, and when I became the hospital's medical director, a young man was admitted to the hospital after he had been involved in an accident.
His wife grabbed my hand and begged me, "You're the only person who can save my husband, Dr. Corbin!"
I read his medical records carefully, and I was taken aback when I saw his name and address. I stared at his picture for a long time before I looked up and replied softly, "I'm sorry. I can't save him."