Chapter 2

“Emily, I’m saying this one last time. I want you to personally handle all of Olivia’s tests and treatment.”

Before I could respond, my son Jack suddenly rushed over and shoved me hard.

“You’re a bad woman! This is all your fault. Aunt Olivia got hurt because of you!”

I staggered back a step, staring at him in disbelief.

The son who had always been gentle and well-behaved was now glaring at me with a kind of hostility I had never seen before.

“Jack, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking the truth!” he shouted. “We were supposed to go home to celebrate your birthday, and Aunt Olivia was driving us, but you kept calling her over and over on the way! You distracted her and that’s why she got into an accident! You’re bad luck! You’re a jinx!”

Birthday? Only then did it hit me. Today was my birthday.

I had forgotten because I was too busy. James had forgotten too.

And it turned out they were with Olivia.

So, this was how it was. In my own son’s eyes, Olivia’s car accident was my fault.

My heart sank straight to the bottom, like dropping into an ice pit.

All around me, eyes turned in my direction—colleagues, patients, family members—filled with curiosity, judgment, whispers.

I felt like a clown stripped bare in front of everyone.

“James,” I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to stay steady, “since you don’t trust me, fine. I’ll immediately apply to the hospital to have Olivia transferred to a different attending team.”

“What do you mean by that?” His face darkened instantly.

“It means I’m refusing to take your first love as my patient.”

I didn’t want to see the disappointment and anger written all over his face anymore, so I turned to leave.

He grabbed my arm tightly.

“Emily, do you really have to throw a tantrum at a time like this?” His voice was strained with suppressed fury. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re a doctor!”

“Exactly because I’m a doctor, I can’t treat a patient when the family doesn’t trust me,” I said coldly. “That’s irresponsible to the patient and to myself.”

I yanked my arm free, my gaze icy. “James, if you’re worried I might hurt the woman you care about, then the best solution is to stay as far away from me as possible.”

With that, I ignored him and went straight to the department director’s office.

I submitted a formal request to change Olivia’s medical team, citing “a personal conflict with the patient’s family and the need to avoid potential medical disputes.”

The director looked at me with a complicated expression, but in the end, he signed the form.

When I left the office, I didn’t go back to the ER. Instead, I went home.

The place I once thought of as my safe harbor now felt unbearably empty.

On the coffee table in the living room sat a birthday cake I hadn’t had time to refrigerate, one I had ordered for myself before leaving that morning.

A small, crooked card stuck into the frosting read: “Happy Birthday Mom.”

I stared at the cake for a very long time, until my eyes began to sting.

I picked up my phone and sent James a single message:

“Let’s get a divorce.”

I didn’t get a reply. Instead, my phone rang and it was a call from the department director.

His tone over the phone was more serious than I had ever heard.

“Emily, come back to the hospital immediately. Something’s happened.”

My heart tightened. A bad feeling crept in, heavy and unavoidable.