Forced to Heal, but I'm Actually a Forensic Doctor

"I'll treat him."

Hendrick and Florence froze, and the crowd instantly went quiet.

Florence's smug smile vanished in an instant. She hadn't expected me to "give in" so fast.

"Finally, you're acting like a proper doctor."

She snorted, lifted her chin, and turned to lead the way.

Hendrick shot me a sharp look as if to say, "Why didn't you just do this earlier?"

I followed them to the VIP ward.

A small crowd of onlookers had followed, eager to watch things unfold.

Inside, I saw the supposedly "severely injured" child.

He was perched on the bed with legs crossed. Leaning back on the bed, he was totally absorbed in his tablet.

A tiny cartoon bandage covered his knee.

There was not a hint of pain expressed on his face.

Florence, noticing me staring at her son, went full drama mode. She pointed at the bandage and shrieked.

"Look at him! Just look! Do you see how badly he's hurt? There's so much blood! You heartless monster! You almost ruined the critical window for treatment!"

She made a scraped knee sound like a catastrophic injury.

The boy, instead of cowering at his mother's screaming, hopped off the bed and ran straight at me. He stomped his little foot against my shin.

A dull throb shot up my leg. I frowned.

"You monster! How dare you make my mom angry! I'm going to tell my dad to fire you!"

Florence didn't stop him. She patted his head and gushed with approval. "Good boy! You know how to protect me."

I stared at the absurd scene, my expression growing colder.

Then, I crouched and grabbed the boy's ankle, saying icily, "Don't move. I need to check you."

Before I could touch him, he yelped like I had shocked him with electricity and immediately started wailing.

"Ah! She hurt me! Mom! She's hurting me on purpose!"

Florence went ballistic. She charged at me and kicked me to the floor. "You wretch! How dare you hurt my son to get revenge!"

As my head hit the cold floor hard, everything blurred for a second.

Pain stole my breath.

I slowly pushed myself up and brushed the dust off my coat.

Then, I looked at the boy, who was still pretending to cry, and smiled coldly.

"Ms. Crater, if I had come a little later, your son's wound probably would have scabbed over on its own."

Florence exploded. "What do you mean? You just don't want to treat my son!"

Hendrick's face was black with fury. He pointed at me, unable to speak.

Florence, pointing at my nose and crying theatrically, shouted to the crowd, "Look, everyone! How could she be a doctor? She's refusing to save lives while making all those excuses! My son is so precious. I'm sure she's jealous! She's trying to hurt my son!"

The crowd, thoroughly stirred up, turned to glare at me.

"Oh goodness, how could a doctor hurt a child like that?"

"Exactly! She was the one in the wrong, and yet she's taking revenge?"

Florence, triumphant, strode toward me and stared down at me while saying domineeringly, "Whether you want to or not, you're gonna treat him! Treat my son's wound! And make sure he's happy with it!"

I looked at her smug face and the judging eyes around us. Suddenly, it all seemed ridiculous to me.

In the next moment, I reached into my pocket and slowly pulled out my work ID.

The crowd gasped. I opened it and held it up.

It had a black cover with a gold-embossed national emblem on it, as well as the words "Rose Jennings, Forensic Pathologist."

"I'm not refusing to treat your son," I said, calm but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"But I'm a forensic doctor."

I paused, scanning Florence and her son, who was still pretending to cry.

"All my patients are dead. Are you sure you want me to treat your son?"