"You-You killed her." The accusation came so unexpectedly that the young doctor could only stare at the man holding the dead woman in his arms. For a moment, she wondered if she had heard him correctly. "I... what?" She had just spent the last few minutes fighting to save a life. Her hands had been busy trying to stop the bleeding, her attention fixed on the woman who had been struggling for every breath. She had barely had time to think about the accident that had brought them there. And now, this man was accusing her of killing her? ★★★★ Hours earlier, she had been driving to the hospital for her night shift. It was almost midnight. The roads were relatively quiet, and she had settled into the familiar routine of the journey when her phone rang. She picked it up to answer. But then, in the space of a few seconds, everything changed. BAM!!! A trailer slammed into a small Mercedes-Benz ahead of her. The sound of metal colliding cut through the night, followed by the sickening sight of the smaller car veering out of control. She barely had time to react before the Mercedes collided with her own vehicle. Her heart lurched. She brought her car to a stop and sat there for a brief moment, trying to process what had happened. Her first instinct was to check herself for injuries. There were none. Her own car jolted from the impact, leaving a deep dent along the front passenger side. She gripped the steering wheel, her heart pounding, then hurried out to assess the damage. But the sight of the overturned Mercedes made her forget about her own car. Its roof was crushed, and its windows were shattered, leaving broken glass scattered across the road. She approached cautiously, peering through the broken window until she spotted the woman inside, slumped against the damaged seat and covered in blood. The driver's side was badly twisted, so she moved around to the passenger side, where a gap in the wreckage gave her enough room to reach inside. "Oh, God." The trailer driver slowed down. For one fleeting moment, she thought he might stop. Instead, he glanced around and sped away. "Hey! Hey! Stop!" She watched him disappear into the night, disbelief giving way to anger. He had hit another vehicle and simply driven off. But she couldn't afford to stand there shouting after him. Someone might be hurt. She rushed towards the overturned Mercedes-Benz. "Can you hear me?" She moved closer, trying to assess the woman's condition. As a doctor she knew that the woman lying lifeless was not completely lifeless. Her pulse was still circulating, meaning that she could still be saved. The sight before her was frightening, but she forced herself to focus. Panic wouldn't help either of them. She had to get the woman out. It wasn't easy, but she eventually managed to pull her free. Then she noticed the woman's swollen belly. She was heavily pregnant. For a moment, the doctor looked at her stomach, struggling to take in what that meant. There were two lives at stake. She hurried back to her car for her first-aid kit. When she returned, she knelt beside the woman and began trying to save her. She worked as quickly as she could, refusing to let the severity of the injuries overwhelm her concentration. "Please, stay with me." She kept going. She couldn't undo the accident. She couldn't make the bleeding disappear or take away the injuries. But she could try to keep this woman alive. So she tried. And tried. Until there was nothing left she could do. The woman died. The doctor stopped. She looked at the woman's face, waiting for a sign that she had somehow been wrong. Her hands remained poised for a moment before she slowly lowered them. "No..." The word escaped her before she could stop it. She had tried. God knew she had tried. Yet the woman lay motionless before her, and the child she had been carrying would never get the chance to take a breath. The doctor swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the woman. She had seen suffering before. She knew that sometimes, despite everything a person did, the outcome could still be terrible. Knowing that didn't make this any easier. Suddenly , a car pulled up behind her with a full speed. She turned at the sound. Several men stepped out. But it was the young man in a tuxedo who emerged after them who drew her attention.He didn't rush about or demand to know what had happened. He took in the scene with a single, sweeping glance, his expression unreadable. Then his eyes settled on the woman lying on the ground. Something in his face changed. He moved towards her. The doctor barely had time to step aside before he pushed past her and dropped to his knees beside the body. "My love." He gathered the woman into his arms. For a moment, he simply looked at her face, as though the sight before him were something he refused to accept. His hand moved to her cheek, brushing against it with an almost careful tenderness. "Wake up, darling. I'm right here." But nothing happened. He touched her face again. "Baby, wake up." His voice remained low, but the words seemed to cost him more with every breath. He drew her closer and rubbed her swollen belly. "Please. Please." The doctor stood nearby, unable to look away. Only moments ago, she had been trying to save this woman. Now she was watching someone hold her as though letting go would make her death final. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry. That she had tried everything she could. That she hadn't simply stood by and watched his loved one die. But the words remained trapped in her throat. What could she say to a man who had just lost so much? The young man bowed his head over the woman's face. "Please, my love. Don't do this to me." The doctor lowered her gaze. She wished she could have done more. She wished the trailer driver had stopped. She wished she had arrived a minute earlier, or that one small thing she had tried might have made a difference. But wishing wouldn't bring the woman back. A few seconds later, the man lifted his head. His eyes found hers. The grief was still there, but it had hardened into something else. "You-You killed her." The doctor blinked. For a moment, she couldn't make sense of the words. "What?" "You killed my wife!."

"You killed my wife!" Mr Blackthorn's voice thundered through the street. The doctor flinched at the sudden outburst, staring at him in disbelief. His face was twisted with rage, his eyes dark brown eyes burning as he held her responsible for the death of the woman in his arms. "K-Killed?" she repeated, struggling to comprehend his accusation. "I was trying to save your wife!" He suddenly rose to his feet. Before she could take a step back, he lunged at her, his hand closing around her neck. "Mr. Blackthorne!" one of the men shouted. The doctor grabbed his wrist, struggling to free herself. His grip tightened, cutting off her breath as she clawed desperately at his hand. Several men rushed forward, grabbing him and pulling him away from her. It took more than one of them to wrench his hand from her throat. She stumbled backwards, coughing and gasping for air. Her blonde hair clung to her face, and sweat trickled down her temples. She pressed a hand to her neck, desperately trying to steady her breathing. "You murderer!" Mr. Blackthorne roared as the men restrained him. "You killed my wife and my unborn baby! You're a murderer!" Something inside the doctor snapped. "I was trying to save your wife!" she shouted, her voice raw from the struggle. "What part of that don't you understand?" He let out a bitter laugh. "Of course you were trying to save her. Because you were the one who hit her in the first place!" "What?" "You heard me!" "I didn't hit your wife!" she snapped. "For the last time, it was an accident! I was a victim, too!" "Bullshit!" He jerked against the men holding him, his gaze fixed on her. "Whatever you did, I'll make sure you regret it!" "I'm not going to regret anything because I didn't kill your wife!" Mr. Blackthorne bit down on his lower lip, his eyes filled with hatred. Then his gaze shifted towards her damaged car. "Thats your bloody car, right?" The doctor followed his gaze. "Yes, it's my car. So what?" "If you didn't hit her, why the hell is it damaged?" For a moment, she understood exactly where his accusation had come from. He had arrived to find his wife dead, an injured woman beside a wrecked car, and a stranger covered in blood. But that didn't make his accusations right. "Like I said, I'm a victim, too!" she insisted. "Everything happened so fast. A trailer hit her car, and her car crashed into mine. The trailer driver was the one who caused the accident!" Mr. Blackthorne stared at her with open contempt. "Then why aren't you the one lying there dead if you're such a victim?" Her mouth fell open. "How dare you-" The wail of police sirens cut through the night. Several vehicles pulled up, followed by an ambulance. Paramedics hurried towards the dead woman while police officers began securing the scene. Soon, the sound of hurried footsteps and overlapping voices filled the street. Then came the flashes. Reporters and photographers had arrived, their cameras pointed at the wreckage, the bloodstained doctor, and the furious man being restrained by his security personnel. The doctor turned away from the cameras, suddenly conscious of the blood covering her clothes and hands. Her body was drenched in sweat, and her breathing still hadn't returned to normal. She wanted to go home. She wanted to wash the blood from her hands and forget the terrible sight of the woman she had failed to save. Instead, she stood in the middle of a growing crowd, surrounded by strangers who had no idea what had happened. An inspector approached Mr. Blackthorne. "Mr. Blackthorne, are you alright? I'm sorry this happened." The paramedics were already preparing to transport his wife. The inspector glanced towards the ambulance before returning his attention to the grieving man. "Can you please tell me what happened here?" "I'll tell you what happened." Mr. Blackthorne said immediately. Instead, he turned towards the doctor and pointed an accusing finger at her. "She killed my wife and my unborn baby!" The doctor's brow furrowed. 'Oh, for God's sake!' She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to hold on to what little composure she had left. A female police officer approached her. "Ma'am, you'll need to come with us then." The doctor stared at her. "Why? Why do I need to come with you? I haven't done anything wrong!" "You killed them!" Mr. Blackthorne shouted. "Youre a liar!" "I'm not lying!" the doctor shot back, turning towards him. "I told you what happened! I didn't hit your wife!" "Liar!" "Mr. Blackthorne, please," the inspector intervened. "You need to compose yourself. I understand that this is an extremely difficult moment, but threatening her will only complicate matters." The warning did little to calm him. He continued struggling against the men holding him, his attention fixed entirely on the doctor. The inspector turned back to her. "Ma'am, I need you to explain exactly what happened." "I was on my way to the hospital for my night shift," she began, her voice trembling despite her efforts to control it. "Then a trailer hit the Mercedes-Benz. The impact sent the car crashing into mine, and the trailer driver ran away." "Where is the trailer driver now?" "He ran away!" she repeated desperately. "I couldn't stop him. I was trying to save the woman in the Mercedes-Benz!" "She's lying!" Mr. Blackthorne roared. His face had reddened with anger. "She's the one who hit my wife! She's trying to cover it up!" The doctor turned towards him, disbelief giving way to outrage. "Why would I do that? Why would I risk my life trying to save someone I'd deliberately hurt?" He didn't answer her question. He didn't seem interested in anything she had to say. As far as he was concerned, she was the person responsible for the two lives he had lost. "You're a murderer!" he shouted. "You deserve to be punished for what you've done!" The doctor stood motionless, staring at him. She had come upon an accident. She had stopped to help a stranger. She had done everything she could to save a woman whose name she didn't even known. And now, surrounded by police officers, reporters, and strangers, she was being called a murderer. The female officer touched her arm. "Ma'am, we need you to come with us." The doctor looked at her, then back at Mr. Blackthorne. "Please. You have to believe me. I didn't kill her." But Mr. Blackthorne's expression remained unchanged. His eyes locked onto slightly blue ones, cold and merciless. "You. You're a murderer." He took a step towards her, forcing the men restraining him to tighten their hold. "I won't let a murderer like you walk free. I'll make sure you pay for what you've done. I'll make sure you suffer."

The doctor's body trembled as Mr. Blackthorne's final words echoed in her head. 'I'll make sure you suffer.' She looked at the inspector, desperately hoping he would understand that she was not the person Mr. Blackthorne claimed she was. "Miss, I'm afraid you'll have to come with us to the police station," he said. "But I didn't do anything!" Her voice broke. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could wipe them away. "I'm not a criminal. I was only trying to help her!" "I understand that you're upset," the inspector replied. "But we need to verify what happened. We're taking you to the station so we can clarify the circumstances of the accident. If you don't mind, please come with us." "Wait. I'd like to change my clothes first." She glanced down at her bloodstained outfit, suddenly unable to bear the sight of it. "I'm afraid that's not possible," he said. "You'll have to arrange for someone to bring you a change of clothes. I can't let you leave the scene." She pressed her lips together, struggling to hold back another sob. The inspector turned towards Mr. Blackthorne, who stood nearby, breathing heavily. His expression remained hard, but the tears in his eyes betrayed the pain beneath his anger. "Mr. Blackthorne, I know this is a difficult situation for you," the inspector said carefully. "But I'd appreciate it if you could accompany us to the station as well." Before Mr. Blackthorne could respond, another flash went off. The photographers had barely given him a moment's peace. The doctor looked away and reached for her phone. With unsteady fingers, she dialled a number. It rang several times before someone finally answered. "Hello Gigi?" She swallowed, trying to steady her voice. "Can you hear me?" She paused to listen. "Can you please come to the police station?" Another pause. "No, nothing happened. Don't worry. I'll explain everything when you get here and don't tell mum." Her voice faltered as she glanced down at her clothes. "Please, bring me an extra clothes for me too." She listened for a moment before answering. "It's okay. I'm fine. I'll explain everything when you arrive." She ended the call. Around her, the reporters were growing bolder. "Why would she kill Mrs. Blackthorne?" one asked. "Did they know each other? Could there have been some kind of dispute between them?" Another reporter turned towards the others. "She claims to be a doctor. Imagine the hospital getting sued because one of its doctors killed a patient!" Their voices carried across the scene. The doctor heard every word. She wanted to turn around and tell them to stop. She wanted to scream that they had no idea what had happened, that none of them had been there when she fought to save the woman's life. But she couldn't. She was exhausted, frightened, and overwhelmed. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she stared at the ground. 'How did I end up in this mess?' She had been on her way to work. She had stopped because someone needed help. That was all. And somehow, she was the one being treated like a criminal. "Miss." She looked up. The inspector was holding the handcuffs. Her eyes dropped to the metal restraints. "Why are you handcuffing me?" "Because you're a criminal!" Mr. Blackthorne barked from behind her. "You're a murderer!" The inspector shot him a warning look. "Mr. Blackthorne." Mr. Blackthorne's jaw tightened. He turned away without another word and headed towards his car. The reporters immediately followed him. "Mr. Blackthorne! Do you believe the doctor deliberately killed your wife?" "Did you know the accused woman before tonight?" "Will you be pressing charges?" Flashes followed him as he walked, but he ignored the questions and continued towards his vehicle. Behind him, the inspector secured the handcuffs around the doctor's wrists. The cold metal touched her skin. She stared at the restraints, unable to believe what was happening. Then the officers led her towards the police vehicle. The reporters turned their attention back to her. "Doctor! Was the accident deliberate?" "Did you know Mrs. Blackthorne?" another one said. "Why did you kill her?" "Do you have anything to say to the public?" The questions came one after another, each one more unbearable than the last. She lowered her head as the officers escorted her away. She had spent the night trying to save a stranger. Now, in front of a crowd eager for answers, she was being condemned for that stranger's death.