Chapter 8 Emmaline stood frozen, staring at the lifeless body on the operating table, her entire being gripped by an icy chill. "I'm... I'm so sorry, Dr. Walsh," Juanita stammered, her face ashen, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I didn't mean to... I just... My exam's coming up, and I thought I'd practice deep suturing... I didn't think..." "Practice?" Emmaline whirled on her, voice shaking with fury. "This was a life, Juanita! Not a training dummy! You're not fit to be a doctor. I'm reporting this exactly as it happened. You'll never pass your retention exam!" Swallowing her grief, Emmaline led the surgical team out to face the anxious family waiting outside. She bowed deeply. "I'm so sorry. We did everything we could." The family stood stunned for a moment before collapsing into wails. "He's dead? How could he be dead? You were supposed to save him!" The patient's mother screamed, her voice raw with anguish. "Why? Why is he gone?" Emmaline's throat tightened. "I'm deeply sorry. There was a serious medical error during the procedure. The hospital takes full responsibility." She glanced back at Juanita, signaling her to step forward and own her mistake. But Juanita, trembling under the family's grief-stricken, murderous glares, shrank back. In a sudden, desperate move, she pointed at Emmaline, her voice shrill. "It was Dr. Walsh! She made a mistake in the final closure, and... and that's why he died!" The mother's rage ignited. "You? You killed my son? You incompetent butcher, give me back my boy!" She lunged at Emmaline, clawing and sobbing as the scene spiraled into chaos. Moments later, Zachary arrived with a squad of soldiers, swiftly restoring order. He was there to investigate the cata- strophic medical error. Emmaline and Juanita were confined to an isolation room, awaiting the investigation's out- come. Emmaline fixed Juanita with a frigid stare. "Why did you lie?" Juanita's tears fell as she begged, "Dr. Walsh, I was scared. If I admit it, my career's over. I'd fail the exam, and my parents... they'd force me to marry that awful old man. You're already a renowned surgeon-please, take the blame for me. I swear I'll make it up to you!" Emmaline almost laughed. The absurdity of it made her chest ache. "You're out of your mind. You made the mistake, so you face the consequences. Even with your lies, Zachary and the team will uncover the truth." But she had under- estimated how far Zachary would go to protect Juanita. Soon, they were summoned to a conference room. Zachary stood at the center, his face stern, flanked by hospital leadership and investigators. His gaze swept over Em- maline and Juanita before he delivered the verdict in a cold, official tone. The report, dressed up in formalities, pinned the blame squarely on Emmaline, citing her "negligence during the final closure" as the cause of the patient's fatal hemorrhage. Emmaline's world shattered. "Zachary, this is your investigation? Everyone in that room saw it was Juanita's mis- take!" 0.0 % 10:01 Chapter 8 288 Vouchere He avoided her eyes, his voice flat. "The findings are based on the full chain of evidence. As the lead surgeon, you bear primary responsibility." He pressed on with the punishment. "Given the patient's death and the severe impact, you should face harsh consequences. But considering your past contributions and lack of intent, you'll be detained for three days." "No! This isn't fair!" Emmaline's voice cracked as she fought to be heard, but soldiers dragged her from the room de- spite her protests and tears. She was locked in a detention cell. Those three days were a living hell. The food was barely edible, sleep was impossible, and her cellmates, sensing her vulnerability, tormented her relentlessly. Her claustrophobia, a secret she'd kept buried, clawed at her in the cramped, dim cell, pushing her to the brink of collapse. On the final day, the patient's family-somehow granted access- stormed in, hurling insults and blows. One wielded a smuggled iron rod, striking her until a rib cracked. When she was released, Emmaline emerged pale and battered, barely able to walk without leaning against the wall. Zachary came to pick her up, his eyes flickering with unease as he took in her condition. In the car, her voice rasped, hoarse from days of suffering. "Don't you owe me an explanation, Zachary?" His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Emma, what's done is done. What's the point of digging into it? Nita's just an intern-she couldn't handle a mistake like this. It would ruin her life. But you? You're a skilled surgeon, respected and established. One misstep won't end your career. Give it time, and this will blow over." His self-righteous reasoning left her hollow, despair seeping into her bones. She could accept that he loved Juanita, but did he have to destroy her to protect their romance? A thousand accusations burned in her throat-decades of be- trayal from her past life begged to spill out-but she swallowed them. She was too exhausted to fight. Sitting beside him felt unbearable. Zachary watched her back as she walked away. For a moment, he thought of chasing after her-but then decided against it. He knew she was emotional now and thought he'd calm her down in a few days. He was certain of her love for him, certain she'd never leave. Besides, their wedding was just around the corner, so he would never lose her. With that thought, he turned the car around and drove off to handle his work. 55.2 % a 10:01