I roared with heartbreak and fury. “Bitch! Irene, you fucking bitch! You think I didn’t give them a choice? The contract clearly states—if the hospital requires support, they must fulfill a three-year service obligation at a branch hospital! Otherwise, they pay the penalty! They agreed to this willingly in the first place!
“So why—just because they don’t want to honor the contract—they get to strike with you? You already killed my children, isn’t that enough? Now you want to cause even more deaths? How are you even qualified to be a doctor? How are you qualified to be human?”
It was the first time I had ever screamed at her like this. Irene was stunned for a few seconds.
But then she snapped impatiently, “You’re insane! I already told you, the kids died because of bad luck! No one killed them! You’re just having another paranoid episode!”
"If you don’t want to watch those patients die, then get down on your knees, apologize and pay compensation! As long as you admit it was just your paranoia, that you misunderstood me and Henry—that everything about us was a lie you made up—and withdraw the announcement about the Africa deployment, we’ll start doing surgeries again.”
“And one more thing—you need to say you’re mentally ill, that you’re going to a psychiatric facility for treatment and transfer the hospital’s directorship to me…”
I growled viciously, “Keep dreaming! Irene, go to hell and enjoy your sick fantasy there!”
"Everything I did was by the book. Why should I apologize? You went to Disneyland with Henry—was that my idea? You kissed him, touched his thigh—did I force you to do that?"
"He used the wrong dosage of anesthesia and killed my daughters and you covered for him, deleted the surgery room footage. You two filthy dogs—go to hell and atone for your sins to my children!"
Irene gasped. "You’re insane… There’s no way to reason with you."
"Go to hell!" I roared and smashed the phone to the ground, stomping on it over and over.
A loud pounding came from the door.
The next second, a group of people broke it down.
"You son of a bitch! You're the scum who ruined the doctors and got innocent patients caught up in this! You worthless bastard—go die!"
They ripped at my clothes, slapped me across the face, kicked me in the gut.
I clutched the urn in my arms with all my strength. But someone tore it away from me.
"No!" I screamed, lunging forward to grab it back.