Chapter 3

"Damn! Has George figured everything out? I think he's about to turn this around!"

Then I headed straight to the large staff lounge.

Two surgeries had just finished, so many of my coworkers were sitting around, taking a break while waiting for their takeout.

Nurses on duty were constantly walking through the room as well. I didn't believe Malcolm would dare attack me in a place like this.

I casually found a seat in the corner. Before long, Malcolm's furious voice came from the doorway.

"Where's George? Get out here! You selfishly refused to save your own wife. A heartless person like you doesn't deserve to be a doctor!"

Malcolm stormed into the lounge with more than a dozen people, throwing the entire room into chaos.

"The side dude finally showed up with the death certificate to make a scene!"

"But George was prepared. He should be okay, right?"

I raised an eyebrow when I saw the comments.

A death certificate?

I let out a mocking laugh. I had never issued a death certificate.

Besides, Malcolm didn't understand how the medical system worked. He had no idea that the piece of paper in his hand meant nothing.

The people Malcolm brought didn't even give me a chance to speak. They rushed at me aggressively, trying to break my hand.

But I had already prepared for this. I immediately stepped behind the patients' family members who had been called over. When the other doctors saw people causing trouble inside the hospital, they became furious.

One of them immediately shouted at Malcolm.

"Who are you people? This is the doctors' office. If you keep causing trouble here, we'll call the police!"

The doctor called the police as soon as he finished speaking.

Malcolm glared at him and shouted.

"How can you say we're causing trouble? Dr. Westcott abused his position to deliberately kill his own wife and unborn child! He's pure evil! Move out of the way! We're here to make George answer for what he did. If you insist on getting involved, don't blame us if you get hurt!"

Malcolm thought his threats would scare the other doctors into pushing me out to protect themselves.

Instead, the more he threatened them, the more doctors stepped in front of me.

He looked disappointed.

I sneered and asked, "Malcolm, what evidence do you have that I abused my position to kill my own wife?"

Malcolm let out a cold laugh. "You want evidence? Fine. I'll give you evidence!"

Then he pulled out the death certificate the comments had mentioned.

He looked completely confident, but I wasn't worried at all.

I carefully examined the death certificate and quickly spotted the problem.

Pointing at the issuing institution, I said, "Malcolm, the patient died in this hospital. That means the death certificate should have been issued by our hospital. Even if you didn't trust us, you should have gone to another major hospital or a qualified medical examiner's office. How could you get a death certificate from some random neighborhood clinic? And another thing—the doctor who actually treated the patient last night wasn't me. By the time I entered the operating room, the emergency treatment was already over. The operating room security cameras recorded everything!"

As soon as I finished speaking, one of the doctors who had actually participated in the emergency treatment grabbed the death certificate to examine it.

After reading it, the doctor's face darkened with anger.

"'The patient died because treatment was delayed'? That's complete nonsense!"