Perfect Surgeon

My daughter is gravely ill, and her medical bills cost a bomb. My husband gives up on treating her. Then, he turns and runs into the arms of his childhood sweetheart, Chelsea Davies. Amid my despair, my first love, Elliot Cox, transfers five million dollars to my account. He cares for my daughter with me. However, my daughter ultimately fails to escape death. Six years later, Elliot and I have our own child. When I head to the hospital to visit one of my friends, I accidentally hear Elliot's conversation with a doctor. "You and Ms. Baxter have your own child now, Mr. Cox. What if she finds out the truth of what happened back then?" "Chelsea was gravely ill at the time; I had no choice but to pull some tricks to have the child's heart transplanted to her. Besides, Holly's pregnant again now, isn't she? It's high time she lets go and moves on." Only then do I discover that my daughter was misdiagnosed on purpose. Elliot took her heart and had it transplanted in Chelsea's body.

My mother said I was a born beauty and was able to charm any man. She told me not to touch a man before my twentieth birthday. In the previous timeline, I listened to her, so when a wealthy heir was dosed with an aphrodisiac, I pushed him away when he tried to take me into his embrace. But the effects of the skincare routine I did transferred to my mother after my twentieth birthday. I used face masks, but my face became wrinkled and spotted. Meanwhile, my mother glowed with smooth and youthful skin. I danced, but I only became fatter while my mother became slim. Seeing how I looked like a fifty-year-old woman, my father called me a useless piece of trash and wanted to marry me off to a bald man as his second wife. I cried and begged my mother for help. But she said this was for my own good, her twenty-something face a mask of hypocrisy. I was forced to run away from home, but doing so only sped up my aging. Three days later, I died on the streets right by a trash heap. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time to the night I met that rich heir. This time, I did not push him away but straddled him in bed.

The day I win a brand-new BMW, I suddenly receive a call from myself, ten years in the future. "Kieran will ask to borrow your car in a bit. And whatever you do, do not lend it to him. He intends to use it to pay off his gambling debt." Even with such an impossibility happening to me, I do not doubt a thing. When Kieran asks for my keys, I shut him down at once. That very night, he drives his old beater car to visit our parents. Along the way, he loses control of the car and collides with another vehicle. Just like that, he slips into a coma. The guilt hit me so hard that I eventually pass out. Mom and Dad stay by my side day and night until I can stand on my own two feet again. But the future version of me sounds cold when she calls again. "They only want to push you onto an operating table. They want your heart to save him!" Growing suspicious, I check their bags and find a donor report. Rage burns through me. I immediately block them on all platforms and throw them out of my home. When news that Kieran dies from blood loss arrives, I learn that they only ever needed my blood—not my heart. I try to find them to tell them the truth and apologize for my mistake. But the mysterious phone rings again. "They hate you because Kieran died. If you go to them now, they will drag you into a suicide pact." I freeze at the revelation, then tell my future myself that I will wait until they calm down. Later, I learn that a thief breaks into their home and kills them. I try to rush over and see them one last time, but a truck hits me and kills me on the spot. I die without ever understanding why the version of me from ten years in the future wanted me dead. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I won the prize.

I sponsored Emily Fagan from an underprivileged background just to help her get through school. She was good-looking but wasn't exactly the brightest. Despite my warning not to tamper with my things, she slipped stimulants into my water bottle. Thanks to her, I was accused of cheating in the swimming competition. Our team's score was nullified. As for me, I was banned from competing for life and kicked out of college. When I confronted her, she cried pitifully, "Julie, I just wanted you to win. I didn't know that'd happen." My boyfriend, Elijah Strauss, held her and comforted her. He even snapped at me, claiming, "Em had good intentions. Why are you giving her a hard time?" Crushed, I shut myself in at home. Feeling sorry, she and Elijah visited me and brought along some vodka as an apology. After I took ten shots, I asked her to buy some over-the-counter pain relievers for my splitting headache. Little did I know that she'd make me take a dangerous dose of Ibuprofen mixed with alcohol. The bleeding in my stomach was what killed me. Emily looked pitifully remorseful at the hospital. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't even tell what I shouldn't have given her…" During the police interrogation, my boyfriend gave false testimony to protect her. He accused me of taking my own life by mixing Ibuprofen and alcohol because I couldn't handle the mental stress from cheating in the competition. When I reopened my eyes, I found out that I was transported to the day before the competition.

After being reborn, I decide to stay far, far away from Jasper Swanson. I resign from his company. I sell our future wedding house. I go overseas to expand our family's business. In my previous life, I used a pregnancy to force him to marry me. But on our wedding day, his beloved first love jumped off a rooftop. Jasper acted like nothing had happened. He smiled and went through with the ceremony. On our wedding anniversary, he took me and our daughter to go bungee jumping. Then, he cut the cords himself, making us fall to our deaths. Afterward, he stood over my body and laughed manically. "If it weren't for you, Coco wouldn't have killed herself! Now, go to hell and atone for it!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I used the baby to force his hand.

Nang dumating ang college admission notice, bigla akong nagkaroon ng mataas na lagnat at napilitan akong manatili sa kama. Ang aking kapatid na babae ay sangkot sa isang kidnapping habang nasa daan upang tulungan akong kunin ang notice, at ang kanyang buhay ay hindi tiyak. Galit na galit sa akin ang mga magulang ko. Matapos punitin ang aking admission notice, pinilit nila akong talikuran ang aking pag-aaral at magtrabaho sa isang pabrika. Nang maglaon, nakaranas din ako ng kidnapping. Pagkatapos makatakas, nagtago ako sa isang abandonadong pabrika at nagpadala ng mensahe para sa tulong. Tinawagan ako ng tatay ko at walang pigil na sinigawan ako, “Lena, tao ka ba? Paano mo nagawang magbiro sa amin sa memorial day ni Jessica!” "May ideya ka ba kung gaano namin hinihiling ng nanay mo na ikaw ang namatay noon?" Sa mga huling sandali ko bago mamatay, umalingawngaw sa aking pandinig ang kanilang mga pang-iinsulto. Ako ay tinorture at pinatay, naging isang halimaw, at ang aking katawan ay itinapon sa isang mabahong kanal sa loob ng tatlong buong araw. Kahit na ang aking ama, ang pinaka experienced na forensic expert, ay hindi ako nakilala. Nang umuwi ang aking kapatid na babae kasama ang lalaking kasama niya ilang taon na ang nakalilipas, pinanumbalik ng aking ama ang aking hitsura sa pamamagitan ng teknolohiya. Lumuhod sila sa harapan ng naaagnas kong bangkay at umiyak hanggang sa mawalan ng malay.

After my husband, Brice Decker, gives me a cold shoulder, I end up dying after getting stabbed three times in a row by a robber who tries to rob me. My twin sister, Indigo Humphrey, specifically dresses up as me and gets close to Brice in order to clear her gambling debt. She begins kissing up to Brice like a total simp. No longer does she get jealous over Brice's first love, Amber Warner. Even when Brice and Amber are caught sleeping with each other on our bed, Indigo will deliver them a pack of contraceptives in time. Brice can't take it anymore. He asks Indigo where my jealous side has gone. That's when I laugh. Can't he tell that I'm already dead?

The night before Grandma's surgery, I pulled my adoptive father, Robert Shaw, into the office and made him stay up with me, going through the medical plans in detail until dawn. All this was because, in my previous life, when Grandma's heart condition suddenly worsened, the "real daughter", my younger sister, Jill Shaw, insisted on taking my position as Grandma's attending physician so she could personally perform Grandma's heart transplant. I knew she had only attended a three-year vocational nursing school, so I refused. However, Jill thought that I was humiliating her. To prove herself, she impersonated me and secretly performed the surgery on Grandma. The next day, Grandma died on the spot from a rejection reaction. Her blood vessels ruptured. When Robert arrived at the scene, Jill immediately threw herself in his arms, sobbing, "Dad, I never thought that Janice would be so afraid of me taking her spot as the attending physician that she'd break hospital rules and operate on Grandma in the middle of the night!" Before I could explain myself, my adoptive mother, Molly Walton, jumped in to accuse me, "Janice, you're a murderer! Grandma trusted Jill to operate on her, so you tampered with the surgery and killed her!" Robert, blinded by rage, shoved me straight off the 36th floor. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Jill planned to operate on Grandma.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

I called my wife, a forensic specialist, after learning that my in-laws were involved in a car accident. It was on the 80th call that she finally answered, "I'm just trying to celebrate Justin's birthday for him. What's wrong with you? Can you not get jealous over just about anything?" I informed her that Mom, Dad, and sister had died in a car accident, and that she should hurry back to arrange for their funeral. To my surprise, she scoffed at my suggestion and replied, "What does your family's death have to do with me?" She was not involved in the funeral arrangements at all. On top of that, she even falsified evidence for her love interest—the culprit who killed her family—in court as a forensics specialist. Eventually, on the day I informed her of my intention to divorce, she threw a fit. "Patrick, it's just the death of a few of your family members. Justin didn't do it on purpose. It was just an accident. "Moreover, it's because of your parents' and sister's carelessness on the road that led to the accident. Why are you making things difficult for me and insisting on divorce? I've truly misjudged you…" Noticing the indignance in her response, I finally understood. It seemed she had no idea that it was her family that died in the accident all this while.