How Can I Kill Them with My Broken Arm? Chapter 02
Author: Thai Ginger
I knew exactly why he sounded like that.
The patient was already dead, killed by the hands of his precious junior, Nina. He was rushing to get me there so I could take the blame.
“Traffic,” I said. My voice came out so flat it sounded foreign even to me.
“Then hurry up! This is the moment that matters. You finish this surgery and your deputy director nomination will be locked in.
“Once that happens, my parents won’t fight the engagement anymore. Just get here. Fast!”
He had dropped his voice low, like he was dangling a reward.
In my last life, that was the exact line that had fooled me. I had rushed to the hospital like an idiot, straight into the trap he had dug for me.
I hung up and checked the time. It was 9:26 pm, 26 minutes until the surgery that had killed me.
I sat in the driver’s seat, my fingers trembling beyond my control. The final images from my last life were still cycling through my head.
I could still see the needle sliding into a vein, my parents falling from the rooftop, Cole on the witness stand telling the court I had been snatching up surgeries like a woman possessed, all for a title.
The moment I stepped into that operating room before 9:52 pm, every last piece of evidence would lock around me like a cage.
No. Not this time. I would not make the same mistake twice.
The question was what to do now. I could not go to the hospital. I could not enter the operating room. I could not go anywhere near that surgery.
They had accounted for every step. The moment I showed up, I would be walking into the net myself. The chain of evidence would close on its own, and I would not even have room to struggle.
I drew a long breath and forced myself to think clearly.
I needed an airtight alibi for 9:52 pm, something ironclad that could withstand any attempt to frame me and make every piece of his careful planning collapse into nothing.
I looked up through the windshield. A traffic officer was directing cars away from the intersection ahead.
An idea took shape in my mind.
I would injure myself and be taken to the emergency room. Then I would be lying on someone else’s operating table.
That was the only way. At 9:52 pm, doctors, nurses, and security cameras would all have me recorded in the ER, not in an operating room where someone could pin a murder on me.
One hand in exchange for my life. It was the only way out.
I did not hesitate. I gritted my teeth and slammed my right arm into the steering wheel.
A sharp crack filled the car.
I felt the bone snap. Pain exploded through my arm all at once, and cold sweat poured out of every pore. My vision went black and I nearly passed out.
I fought through the agony, reaching over with my left hand to slam the horn twice.
A broken arm made me a patient. There was no way I could scrub in to deliver a baby.
The traffic officer noticed immediately and jogged over to my window.
“What happened? Do you need help?”
I was beyond words. My face had gone white and sweat covered my forehead. All I could manage was to point at my right arm with my left hand.
The officer took one look at the unnatural angle and his expression shifted.
“Is that broken? How did that happen?”
I could not answer. I just shook my head through the pain.
He did not waste another second. He grabbed his radio and called it in.
“Injured driver at the intersection. Right arm fracture. Requesting emergency response.”
The ambulance arrived quickly. I was lifted onto a stretcher and rushed toward the hospital, red and blue lights flashing overhead, sirens blaring the entire way.
I lay on the stretcher drenched in cold sweat, my right arm burning like it was on fire. However, the weight that had been crushing my chest finally lifted.
At 9:52 pm, I would be in the emergency room myself. No matter how perfectly they had staged everything, they could not put me in two places at once.
Ten minutes later, I was wheeled into a treatment room. Doctors and nurses crowded around me and cut my sleeve open. They took X-rays, administered anesthesia and began setting the bone.
People moved in and out of the room the entire time. The pain had me shaking from head to toe, but I stayed conscious through every second of it.
