Chapter 3

I heard a sharp *snap*, and clearly felt the bone break.

Excruciating pain instantly exploded, and cold sweat immediately drenched me.

My vision blurred, and I nearly passed out.

Enduring the sharp pain, I used my left hand to press the horn twice.

My arm was broken; I was a patient.

There was no way I could be performing surgery!

The traffic officer ahead immediately noticed the anomaly and hurried over to tap on my car window.

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?”

I was in too much pain to speak, my face pale, my forehead covered in sweat.

I pointed to my right arm with my left hand.

The officer’s expression changed immediately when he saw the unnatural angle of my arm:

“A broken arm? How did this happen?”

I didn't answer, just shook my head in agony.

Without another word, the officer spoke into his walkie-talkie:

“Injured person at the intersection, right arm broken, needs immediate medical attention!”

Soon, an ambulance arrived, and I was loaded onto a stretcher.

Red and blue lights flashed as it sped toward the hospital with sirens blaring.

I lay on the stretcher, drenched in cold sweat, my right arm burning with pain.

But the enormous weight on my heart had finally lifted.

At 9:52 PM, I would be entering the ER.

No matter how perfect their setup, they couldn't make me be in two places at once.

Ten minutes later, I was taken into the treatment room.

Doctors and nurses surrounded me, cutting open my sleeve.

X-rays, anesthetic, reduction.

People came and went in the treatment room. I was shaking from the pain, but my consciousness remained clear.

I glanced at the clock on the wall: 9:49 PM.

Only three minutes remained until the patient's fabricated time of death in Marcus’s timeline.

In my previous life, I would have been entering the operating room at this exact moment, captured by surveillance video.

Coupled with the physical evidence bearing my fingerprints, intentionally placed by Marcus, I would have been utterly defenseless.

But in this life, I was in the treatment room.

Two traffic officers, three medical personnel, and seven surveillance cameras would all serve as my alibi.

“Sign here.” The nurse handed me the admission consent form.

I caught a glimpse of the wall clock with my peripheral vision: 9:52 PM.

It was precisely the time Marcus had fabricated as the patient’s death in my past life.

I signed my name, clicked submit, and the time froze at 9:52 PM.

It was done!

At the exact time of the patient’s death, I was in the treatment room.

With surveillance footage, medical records, and full documentation from the medical staff.

Marcus couldn’t talk his way out of this; he couldn't make me appear in two places at once.

Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, my phone rang. It was Marcus.

I glanced at it, but didn't answer.

He must be frantic now, right?

His beloved Sophia’s malpractice had resulted in a double fatality, and he wanted me to take the blame, but couldn’t find me.

Serves him right!

I simply turned off my phone.

By the time the reduction was done and the cast was applied, it was past ten o’clock.

I leaned back on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling.

In my previous life, at this time, I would have already been taken away by the police, and the news would have broken.

“Women’s Hospital Chief Doctor Eliza’s Malpractice Leads to Patient’s Death!”

But in this life, I never entered the operating room.

I was alive, and I was innocent.

My parents wouldn't die either.

I closed my eyes, wondering what was happening in the operating room.

But I could guess that Marcus hadn't been idle.

He must have changed his plan, intending to shift the blame for the operating room malpractice and patient’s death onto me.

Sure enough, a moment later, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway.

The door burst open, and a police officer in uniform entered first.

“Eliza?”

He flashed his badge and said:

“We’re from the Criminal Investigations Unit.”

“Someone just reported a medical accident at the hospital, resulting in a patient’s death, and you are suspected of violating protocols.”

“Please cooperate with the investigation and come with us.”