LOGINbarely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the assassin's knife flashing beneath the streetlight, heard his voice whispering that I wouldn't survive a second time, and woke with my heart pounding against my ribs. By sunrise, the bruises on my wrists had already begun to darken, reminding me that none of it had been a nightmare. Dressed quietly, tied my hair into a low ponytail, and forced myself to head for the clinic. Staying home would only give fear a place to grow, and I refused to let whoever wanted me dead steal the last days I had left in Ashwood.
The moment I stepped outside, I knew something had changed. Conversations stopped as I walked past. Women who normally greeted me with warm smiles suddenly lowered their voices. Two elderly men standing outside the bakery looked at me before pretending to continue their discussion. A little boy waved at me, only for his mother to gently pull his hand down and lead him away. My footsteps slowed. The attack had frightened everyone, but this... this felt different. It wasn't fear. It was suspicion. Mrs. Martha hurried toward me before I could reach the clinic. Her face carried the same kindness it always had, but her eyes were filled with worry. "Don't mind them," she said softly, taking my hand. "People believe whatever reaches their ears first." A knot formed in my stomach. "Believe what?" She hesitated. That hesitation told me everything. "What are they saying?" She sighed. "Someone started a rumor last night. They're saying Mrs. Briggs offered you money to change her husband's death certificate... and that you accepted it." For a second, I simply stared at her. Then I laughed. Not because it was funny. Because it was ridiculous. "Nobody would actually believe that." Mrs. Martha didn't answer. My smile slowly disappeared as I looked around the village again. The whispers. The stares. The silence whenever I walked by. Someone had made sure they believed it. By the time I unlocked the clinic, three appointments had already been canceled. Two patients who had been waiting outside quietly stood up and left without saying a word. Another woman walked in carrying her sick daughter, only to freeze when she saw me. She hesitated for several uncomfortable seconds before forcing an awkward smile. "I'm... I'm sorry, Doctor. We'll come back another day." Before I could respond, she hurried out. I stood alone in the middle of the clinic, staring at the still-open door. This was the same woman who had trusted me to deliver her child two years ago. Now she couldn't even trust me to examine a fever. The bell above the door rang again. This time, Ethan walked in. One look at my face told him everything. "You've heard." I nodded. "They're saying I took a bribe." "I know." "They actually believe it." His jaw tightened. "Not everyone." "It doesn't matter." "It does." He stepped closer, his voice calm but firm. "I've already questioned several people. Every single one of them heard the rumor from someone else. Nobody knows where it started." "So someone planned this." "I'm certain of it." Before I could answer, loud voices erupted outside. Curious, we stepped onto the porch. A small crowd had gathered in front of the clinic. Mrs. Briggs stood among them, dressed entirely in black. "I came here yesterday to ask the doctor for help," she announced loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Instead, she demanded money before she'd even consider changing my husband's records." Gasps spread through the crowd. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "That's a lie." She turned toward me, tears filling her eyes with practiced perfection. "I begged you." "You asked me to falsify an official document." "I asked you to show compassion." "You asked me to commit a crime." The crowd grew restless. Some people looked uncertain. Others looked convinced. Mrs. Briggs covered her face as though trying to hide her sobs. "I only wanted my husband to rest in peace." "And I wanted the truth to be recorded." She slowly lowered her hands. "The truth?" she repeated bitterly. "Or your price?" Before I could answer, Grandpa Ben's walking stick struck the ground with a loud crack. "Enough!" Every head turned toward him. The old man slowly walked to the front of the crowd, ignoring the worried protests of his granddaughter. "I nearly died four days ago," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "This young woman brought me back with her own hands. She has treated this village for eight years. She has delivered our children, buried our dead with dignity, and refused payment more times than I can count. If anyone standing here believes Dr. Ariana would sell her integrity for money..." He swept his gaze across the crowd. "...then shame on you. You never knew her at all." Silence settled over the square. One by one, people lowered their eyes. Mrs. Briggs' expression hardened for only a fraction of a second before she turned and walked away without another word. Ethan watched her leave. "So that's her game." "What do you mean?" "She couldn't buy your silence." He looked at me grimly. "So she's trying to destroy your reputation instead." The rest of the day passed in uneasy silence. Some patients returned after hearing Grandpa Ben defend me. Others didn't. By evening, the village hall was decorated with paper lanterns and handmade banners that read We'll Miss You, Dr. Ariana! Children ran between the tables while the smell of homemade food filled the air. Everyone tried to smile, but the scandal lingered beneath every conversation like a storm cloud waiting to break. Near the entrance stood a young woman in a white coat, nervously clutching a folder to her chest. The village chief waved me over. "Ariana, I'd like you to meet Dr. Elena Hart. She'll be taking over the clinic after you leave." I smiled warmly and offered my hand. "It's nice to meet you." "I've heard so much about you," she admitted, shaking my hand. "Honestly... I'm terrified. I don't think I can ever live up to everything you've done here." "You don't have to," I said gently. "Just take care of them. That's enough." At that moment, Ethan walked into the hall. The village chief called his name. "Ethan, could you help Dr. Hart carry her luggage to the guest house after dinner?" "Of course." He stepped forward, taking the heavy suitcase from her without hesitation. "Careful," he said with a small smile. "These steps are uneven." Elena looked up at him, momentarily speechless. "...Thank you." She watched him walk ahead, an unconscious smile touching her lips before she quickly looked away. Grandpa Ben leaned toward Mrs. Martha and whispered with a grin, "Looks like someone's heart just skipped a beat." Mrs. Martha elbowed him lightly. "Behave." He only chuckled. Across the room, Ethan remained completely oblivious.The convoy didn't slow until the towering iron gates of a secluded estate slid open, revealing a sprawling mansion hidden deep within the mountains. It looked less like a home and more like a fortress. Armed guards lined the entrance, their expressions hard and alert as the black SUVs sped into the courtyard. The moment the vehicles stopped, several men rushed forward with a stretcher, moving with practised precision. No one panicked. No one shouted orders. They simply knew exactly what to do. I climbed out after them, my shoes splashing against the rain-soaked pavement, clutching my medical bag as I hurried beside the unconscious stranger."Medical room. Now," I said firmly.The men exchanged uncertain glances before looking toward the man who had been speaking to me since the roadside.He nodded."Do exactly as the doctor says."Within seconds, Lucian was wheeled into a private treatment room unlike any I'd ever seen. It was fully equipped with modern medical equipment, surgical ins
The bus pulled away from Ashwood just after sunrise, carrying me farther from the only home I had ever known, sat beside the window with my fingers wrapped tightly around the stethoscope keychain Ethan had slipped into my palm before I boarded. The village had disappeared from sight, but the ache in my chest refused to leave. Eight years. That was how long I had lived there, treating broken bones, delivering babies, comforting grieving families, and believing that if I worked hard enough, life would eventually reward me. Instead, I was leaving behind a ruined reputation, unanswered questions, and a heart that still refused to believe Daniel could betray me after everything we had sacrificed together.The rain began less than an hour into the journey, drumming steadily against the windows as the bus climbed a winding mountain road. Most of the passengers had fallen asleep, their heads resting against the seats while soft music played through the driver's radio. I reached into my bag an
barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the assassin's knife flashing beneath the streetlight, heard his voice whispering that I wouldn't survive a second time, and woke with my heart pounding against my ribs. By sunrise, the bruises on my wrists had already begun to darken, reminding me that none of it had been a nightmare. Dressed quietly, tied my hair into a low ponytail, and forced myself to head for the clinic. Staying home would only give fear a place to grow, and I refused to let whoever wanted me dead steal the last days I had left in Ashwood.The moment I stepped outside, I knew something had changed. Conversations stopped as I walked past. Women who normally greeted me with warm smiles suddenly lowered their voices. Two elderly men standing outside the bakery looked at me before pretending to continue their discussion. A little boy waved at me, only for his mother to gently pull his hand down and lead him away. My footsteps slowed. The attack had frightened everyone
Rain began as a light drizzle just after checking up on my last patient. I glanced through the clinic window, watching the sky darken far earlier than usual, and sighed before closing the final medical file. The events of the past few days refused to leave my mind. Eleanor Briggs' warning. The muddy footprints inside my clinic. Ethan's growing concern. I wanted to believe they were unrelated, that I was simply letting fear cloud my judgment, but every time I reached for that comforting thought, something inside me whispered otherwise. I locked the medicine cabinet, switched off the lights one by one, and slung my medical bag over my shoulder. The village had already gone quiet. Most families were indoors, escaping the coming rain. Only the sound of distant thunder followed me as I stepped outside and locked the clinic door behind me.I had barely taken a few steps when I heard another set of footsteps.Slow.Measured, not trying to hide, i stopped walking, the footsteps stopped, too.
Morning arrived with a blanket of gray clouds hanging low over Ashwood Village. I stood outside the clinic, unlocking the front door as the familiar scent of damp earth filled the air. Normally, mornings brought me peace. Today, they only reminded me of the muddy footprints Ethan had found the night before.I pushed the thought aside.Fear wouldn't help my patients.Inside, I switched on the lights and arranged the files on my desk. It was my routine—one that somehow made everything feel normal, even when it wasn't. Before I could settle down, the bell above the entrance chimed."Doctor Ariana!"A little girl no older than eight rushed in, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers almost as big as her head.I smiled."Well, good morning, Lily."She beamed as she placed the flowers on my desk."These are for you.""They're beautiful.""My mama said you'll be leaving soon."I nodded gently."In two days."Her smile faded."Are you coming back?"The question caught me off guard."I hope so.""Y
The words lingered in my mind long after Eleanor Briggs walked out of the clinic, some truths come with consequences, Doctor, I let out a slow breath before shaking my head."No," I muttered to myself. "She's grieving."People said strange things when they lost someone they loved. I'd seen it countless times over the years. Grief could make a person bargain with reality, deny the truth, or blame the wrong people.Surely, that was all this was.I picked up the next patient's file and forced myself to focus.By sunset, the clinic was empty.I locked the medicine cabinet, organized the patient records, and reached for my handbag. Just as I was about to leave, something caught my attention.The vase sitting on the windowsill had been knocked onto the floor.Glass covered the tiles.I frowned."I'm sure I left this here."Kneeling, I carefully picked up the larger pieces. It was the handmade vase the children had given me after I treated them during last year's flu outbreak.I smiled sadly







