Emotional Hostage

My husband's childhood sweetheart needed surgery, and he insisted that I be the one to operate on her. I followed every medical protocol, doing everything I could to save her. However, after she was discharged, she accused me of medical malpractice and claimed I’d left her permanently disabled. I turned to my husband, hoping he’d speak up for me, but he curtly said, “I told you not to act recklessly. Now look what’s happened.” To my shock, the hospital surveillance footage also showed that I hadn’t followed the correct surgical procedure. I couldn’t defend myself. In the end, I was stabbed to death by her super-alpha husband. Even as I died, I still couldn’t understand—how did the footage show my surgical steps were wrong? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Joanna was admitted for testing.

The ER receives a patient in the middle of the night. Despite being the doctor on duty, I use the excuse of suffering from a stomachache to duck into the washroom. Instead, the new pretentious doctor, Scarlett York, is the one taking the lead in saving the patient's life. In my previous life, I put in all of my effort to save the patient's life. That was how I managed to revive him. But when the patient woke up, he claimed that I had broken four of his ribs, so he demanded compensation from me. The hospital also suspended me from my position and made me reflect on my actions just because I drank a bottle of glucose that I paid for. At the same time, Scarlett accused me of selling the medical equipment, which led to me getting fired by the hospital. To make things worse, the patient's family decided to get revenge on me by stabbing me with a blade. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the patient is sent to the ER.

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

Thanks to my dad's work, I have to transfer schools. Soon, I go to my new school to register for my enrolment. After submitting my personal information, the teacher in charge shoots me an odd look. "Is your father Mr. Chapman, the new shareholder? His child should have enrolled with us a long time ago. In fact, his daughter is half a year older than you. You're not that person at all…" Stunned, I dig out my phone and show my photo with my dad to the teacher. She glances at the photo before showing me the system window. "Mr. Chapman's daughter has been studying in this school since the first term. He even donated a library to the school recently. This is a photo the school board has taken. You can take a look yourself." In the photo, my dad and an unfamiliar student can be seen standing at the school's bulletin board. That young lady looks as old as I do. Her features are similar to my dad's. In fact, she resembles him more than I do! If they are an actual father and daughter pair, then who am I?

I had everything planned a month in advance for our holiday. I was going to take my wife and daughter on a trip to see the country's beautiful landscapes, but just before we were supposed to leave, they both disappeared. I ended up standing alone in the pouring rain, trying to call them. My daughter's voice came through over the phone—it was cold and impatient. "Mommy's having dinner with Uncle Skyler. We don't want to go anymore." Right after that, the call was cut off. I had been blocked. They locked me out of the house on purpose and left me to freeze out there all night. The rain had already drenched me, and I was running a high fever that turned into pneumonia. Meanwhile, the two of them were off enjoying a vacation with Skyler Shire. That was the moment I knew—this marriage was well and truly over.

I got a security job in an upscale neighborhood.  One day, I got a call from a resident.  “I think there’s been a break-in.”  I rushed to the scene. Instead of an intruder, I was greeted by a beautiful woman in barely anything.  She held me and pleaded, “I’m scared. Can you stay with me?”

That night, I returned from a business trip to surprise my wife. However, when I sneak home, I realize my boss is there, too. His smile deepens when he sees me; he tells me he's there to welcome me home because he knew I would return that night. My wife nods and agrees with him. For some reason, I can't help finding the looks on their faces odd.

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

A burglar breaks into our home, taking my mother-in-law and me captive. He stabs my mother-in-law's eyes, blinding her. Then, he slices her tongue and strips her, even putting on a live stream to air the whole thing. He claims that he'll auction my mother-in-law's organs if we can't pay the ransom of ten million dollars. The live stream infuriates the Internet, and everyone starts searching for my husband, the city's wealthiest man. No one knows he's on a luxury cruise ship, holding an engagement ceremony with his childhood friend. He snarls, "What a dumb excuse to trick me out of my money! I'll burn the money for them when they're dead!"

When my body is engulfed in flames, my firefighter father is watching a new movie with my sister. My mother is baking them a cake. I hear laughter in the living room, and I can smell the caramel popcorn in the kitchen. Today is my family's weekly family day—it's a day for my sister and parents to be with each other. The doorbell rings, and the perpetrator gives me a chance to ask for help. My limbs are bound, and stones fill my mouth. I stand at the door and desperately wait for my parents to open it. They don't get up. Instead, they sit on either side of my sister and hug her. "We promised you we'll only be with you on our family days. No one can disturb us." "What if it's Danica?" Ravenna Sutton, my sister, asks. "Her? She hasn't answered her phone in days—who knows where she's off being wild? I'll think of her as dead if she still doesn't return tomorrow!" Ravenna giggles. Mom feeds her some popcorn, and Dad discusses the movie's plot with her. The perpetrator drags me back upstairs and laughs mockingly in my ear. "Looks like I did something unnecessary. They genuinely don't care about you." Smoke permeates every corner upstairs, and the flames start to lick at my body. Mom and Dad protect Ravenna as they run downstairs. They have no idea their birth daughter is screaming in pain amid the blazing fire.