Chapter 4
It was 2:17 a.m.
Zoe was jolted awake by a frantic knocking at the door.
She rolled over and glanced at her phone.
Three missed calls. All from Dean.
The knocking kept coming, loud and urgent, like someone was banging for their life.
Zoe got up and opened the door.
It wasn't Dean standing there.
Instead, there was a middle-aged man in a black suit, his eyes red and tired behind gold-rimmed glasses. It was Maya's agent, Sam Grant.
"Dr. Winters!" Sam looked at her like she was his last hope, desperation written all over his face.
"Please, Ms. James is getting worse. Her blood pressure's down to 70 over 40. If you don't operate now, she won't last much longer," he said.
Zoe leaned against the doorframe, her expression distant.
"Have you reached out to any other hospitals?" she asked.
"We have. Dr. Clark can't make it back in time, and Professor Miles is busy with another surgery.
"We've tried everyone we could. Right now, you're the only one who can get her into surgery right away." Sam's voice was trembling.
He wasn't faking it.
If Maya really died here, Sam, her agent, and the whole management company, would get skinned alive by the investors backing her.
Zoe paused for a couple seconds.
"Let me recommend someone," she said.
She grabbed her phone and flipped through her contacts.
"Ethan Tyler, deputy director of gastroenterology here. He's done over forty spleen surgeries, with a success rate above 95%. The guy's rock solid," Zoe said.
Sam paused, looking baffled. "How come nobody brought him up before?"
"He's off today, not at the hospital. But he lives just fifteen minutes from here. If you send someone to pick him up right now, he can be in the operating room in twenty minutes."
Zoe shot Sam Ethan's contact info.
"Uh—" Sam started.
"If Ms. James's spleen rupture is grade two or three, Dr. Tyler is more than capable of handling it," Zoe said, her tone matter-of-fact, almost like she was teaching a class to interns.
"If it's grade four or above, then we'd need to call in a specialist team," she added.
She shot Sam a look.
"So are you going to stand here debating, or are you going to make that call?" Zoe pressed.
Sam gritted his teeth and bolted.
Zoe watched him run off, then shut the door.
In her previous life, Ethan was also on the shortlist, but since he was off duty, nobody thought to call him.
Everyone got totally fixated on the fact that the famous actress had named Zoe specifically.
So Zoe ended up on the operating table herself.
She was the one who took the fall for it.
But this time, she refused to play that role.
Twenty-two minutes later, Ethan showed up.
He rushed in wearing loungewear, and when he saw the circus in the ER—agent, assistant, bodyguards, and Dean looking like he was about to explode—his brows twisted into a knot.
"Big turnout, huh," Ethan muttered, grabbing the imaging films for a quick look. "Grade three spleen rupture. It's manageable. We can save her. Get the OR ready."
Ethan was a quick-tempered doctor in his early forties, no nonsense, all business.
But as Ethan pushed open the operating room door, Maya's voice rang out, weak but clear. "I don't want him."
Ethan stopped dead, caught off guard.
"I want Dr. Winters. Only her," Maya declared.
Ethan shot Sam a look that said, "Are you kidding me?"
Sam's forehead was slick with sweat, dripping down in streams.
"M-Ms. James, Dr. Winters has another surgery lined up—" Sam stammered.
"She's already finished her surgery," Maya said, her voice sharp.
She turned her head; those eyes that could mesmerize millions on screen were bloodshot now, but her stare was almost too intense.
"I did my homework. Dr. Winters has the best record in thoracic surgery here. With how serious my case is, I deserve the best doctor," Maya insisted.
"This isn't your call—" Ethan snapped, his temper flaring.
"Guess you're not good enough," Maya cut him off.
Ethan's face drained of color, then turned bright red.
He'd been in this game for over ten years, and never had a patient insult his skills in front of so many people.
Sam rubbed his hands together, trying to smooth things over. "Ms. James didn't mean it that way. Dr. Tyler, please don't take it to heart—"
"I meant it," Maya shot back.
Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was firm.
Ethan slapped the imaging films down on the table and turned on his heel. "Go find whoever you want. It's not my problem.
"Drag me out of bed in the middle of the night, then say I'm not good enough? Fine. If you're so capable, operate on yourself then."
He left the ER, cursing.
Sam chased after him, trying to grab his arm, but Ethan shrugged him off.
"Don't touch me. That famous actress said I'm not good enough. Whatever, I'm going back to sleep," Ethan said.
The hallway erupted into chaos.
Zoe stayed in the on-call room, listening to the muffled commotion outside, her face calm, like she was watching a free drama unfold.
In her previous life, Maya did the exact same thing.
She turned down every other doctor, demanding only Zoe.
Back then, Zoe thought it was a compliment to her skills. She even felt a little flattered.
But later, she realized the truth.
Maya didn't pick her because she was the best doctor.
It was because she was Dean's wife.
Only if Dean's wife saved her could Maya keep her scheme going.
Maya needed a sob story to win sympathy: "See, she saved my life, but then got jealous over Dean, gave me lousy post-op care, and left me with chronic pain for life."
What a perfect script.
The savior became the villain.
The victim turned into the perpetrator.
Zoe never got a chance to clear her name, not even at the end.
Too bad this time, the story changed.
The author wasn't the same anymore.
*****
It was three in the morning.
Dean showed up again.
He stood at the door to the on-call room, not bothering to knock.
The door wasn't locked.
Zoe sat at the small desk, working on Henry's post-op notes.
Dean lingered for a moment before finally speaking.
"Zoe." His voice was softer than before, the sharpness gone, replaced by exhaustion. "Dr. Paul Foster from Harmony General Hospital has agreed to take over. The ambulance is on its way."
Zoe kept writing, barely glancing up as she murmured, "mm-hmm."
"But the transfer's risky," Dean said, pausing. "Dr. Foster said someone needs to do an emergency abdominal paracentesis to slow the bleeding before he gets here."
"Dr. Tyler can do it."
"He's already left."
"Get him back."
"No chance." Dean took a deep breath. "Your colleague, Grace, tried to catch him, but couldn't. Dr. Tyler's exact words were 'Let the famous actress operate on herself.'"
Zoe couldn't help but grin.
She'd had firsthand experience with Ethan's temper in her previous life.
This time, though, Maya totally brought this mess on herself.
"What about the other doctors on duty?" Zoe asked.
"Everyone who can do an abdominal paracentesis is tied up in surgery," Dean said, his voice tight with desperation. "The ER's slammed tonight. There were three emergencies in a row. You're the only one who's free."
Zoe finally looked up at Dean.
The hallway lights spilled in from behind him, tracing his outline with an icy white edge.
No doubt about it, he was good-looking.
High cheekbones, a straight nose, and a jawline sharp enough to slice paper.
Too bad that under all that beauty was a heart rotten through and through.
"It's just an emergency paracentesis," Zoe said.
"Yeah," Dean replied, meeting her gaze. "It's simple. You'll be done in five minutes."
"And then what?"
"The ambulance will arrive, and Dr. Foster will take over."
Zoe paused for three seconds.
Then she stood up.
Dean's eyes brightened for a moment.
As Zoe walked past him, she paused.
"I'm not doing this for you." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "And it's not for her either."
She looked up, meeting Dean's gaze.
"It's because there are other ER patients next to her bed. If her bleeding gets out of control, she'll suck up all the ER's resources.
"I'm freeing up resources for the other patients. Got it?" she said.
Dean's Adam's apple bobbed, but he stayed silent.
Zoe walked into the ER.
The paracentesis kit was already prepped, and Grace stood off to the side, her expression screaming like she was watching some over-the-top drama. And honestly, she was.
Zoe slipped on her gloves.
Maya caught sight of Zoe, and a faint smile crept onto her pale face.
"Dr. Winters, I knew you'd come" Maya murmured.
Zoe kept her head down, focused on the procedure, ignoring her completely.
The moment the needle pierced the abdominal wall, her hand was steady as a rock.
Dark blood began to flow out through the drainage tube.
As the pressure in her abdomen eased, Maya's face visibly relaxed.
"Thank you." Maya's voice softened, and tears started to fall again.
Zoe pulled out the needle and took off her gloves.
"Leave the drainage tube in place. The ambulance will be here soon," she said.
Then she turned to Grace. "You handle the handover. If anything comes up, get in touch with Dr. Foster."
"Got it, Zoe," Grace replied.
Zoe walked out of the ER.
When she reached the corner of the hallway, she pulled out her phone and checked the recorder. It was still running.
It had been recording ever since she stepped into the ER.
The disaster from her previous life? Now, it was her launchpad.
Every step of the procedure was caught on tape.
Every word, every move, every witness. Nothing slipped through the cracks.
This time, nobody was going to drag her name through the mud.
Zoe slipped her phone back into her pocket, her steps light, almost cheerful.
It was 3:30 a.m. in the Everwell Hospital ER.
For the first time, she actually didn't mind pulling a late shift.