His family panicked, their faces stricken with fear. It was clear they had never encountered this before. Desperate, they called for help, but I knew the child wouldn’t last until the ambulance arrived.
Without hesitation, I stepped forward.
I quickly placed chopsticks horizontally into his mouth to prevent him from biting his tongue, then began administering first aid. Slowly, his convulsions subsided, and the foaming stopped—but his eyes remained unfocused, dazed.
I turned to his parents. “Take him to the hospital now while he’s stable.”
But before they could react, Faye suddenly rushed forward.
She shoved me aside, stuffed a pill into the child’s mouth, and gently wiped his face with a tissue, her movements practiced and careful.
Moments later, the child blinked, his consciousness returning. His family sighed in relief, their panic melting into gratitude. They turned to thank me—only for Faye to step in, blocking their way.
“I’m a doctor,” she declared with a warm, reassuring smile. “It’s my duty to save lives. I’ve given him medicine, and he won’t have another attack. If you ever need help again, just come find me at the Pioneer Medical Center.”
Her words immediately captured their attention. A doctor. The one who saved their child. They showered her with thanks, their relief turning into admiration.
I clenched my fists, anger simmering beneath my skin.
After they left, I stepped forward and grabbed Faye’s wrist. “How can epilepsy be cured with just one pill? You should have told them to go straight to the hospital! What if the child has another seizure?”
I didn’t yell. My voice was steady, controlled.
But Faye acted as if I had struck her.
Her eyes turned red, brimming with unshed tears as she ran to Tristan, her voice trembling with grievance.
“Brother… why is Sister-in-law like this? I was only trying to save a life, and she’s accusing me instead.”
Tristan’s gaze snapped to me, his expression darkening with impatience.
“Eliza,” he sighed, his tone carrying the weight of irritation. “Faye is a doctor. She knows more than you—a full-time wife. Isn’t it a bit much for you to act like you know better than her?”
Yes.
I am just a housewife now—someone who only knows how to make money around men, while Faye stands at the pinnacle of medicine. Even if my way of saving people was correct, who would trust an ordinary woman like me over an esteemed expert like her?