Chapter 2

With a startled gasp, Eleanor Vance cut off the live stream.

I had tried to persuade her, but if she wouldn’t take her child to the hospital, it wasn't like I could go to her house and forcibly draw blood.

I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the churning emotions within me.

My professional instinct still prompted me to immediately report this serious online defamation and threat to the hospital’s administration and security.

However, the online storm moved far faster than real-world procedures.

After verifying my account with my real name, I shared an authoritative pediatric fever treatment guideline.

I attached screenshots from reputable medical journals and tagged Eleanor Vance.

I tried my best to explain in simple language why children with high fevers needed blood tests for accurate medication.

Just minutes after my post went up, comments and private messages flooded in like a dam breaking.

"Shameless! Now you want to clear your name? Why didn't you do this earlier? Honestly, how much dirty money have you made?"

"Still talking about guidelines at a time like this? Is a child's life less important than your stupid rules? Will you die if you don't earn a few extra bucks?"

"This guideline couldn't possibly be made up on the fly, could it?"

"Look closely, everyone! This bitch is just trying to shirk responsibility!"

In less than ten minutes, the number of abusive comments soared past ten thousand. Some people screenshot the guideline, stamping it with "FORGED EVIDENCE" in red letters.

Others mocked my medical jargon word for word, claiming I was putting on a show to fool the public.

A nurse, verified as working at my hospital, posted a comment:

[To my knowledge, this doctor has always been fond of excessive testing.]

This comment immediately became the top-rated one.

Before long, someone dug up an old photo of me from college.

In the picture, I was wearing a lab coat, pulling an all-nighter in the lab. The caption, however, was twisted into:

[Breaking news! Back then, her favorite thing to do was use her uniform to seduce professors in the lab!]

Before I could even defend myself, another post appeared, claiming to be from my high school classmate:

"She's always been this cold and unfeeling. When our classmate was writhing in pain from acute gastroenteritis, she calmly kept doing her homework."

The post went viral.

Two colleagues, unable to stand it, openly defended me with their real names, but they too were swept into the storm. Even the entire hospital faced a boycott from netizens.

Dr. Peterson called me into his office, incandescent with rage:

"It's just a fever reducer for her child, isn't it? Why are you so stubborn? Don't we usually provide fever reducers for free in such special cases right away?"

"I know, but her child cannot be given it! Especially not for free…"

Before I could continue my defense, reporters who had disguised themselves and snuck in surrounded Dr. Peterson and me.

"Dr. Hayes, it seems all of this is your personal action and has nothing to do with the hospital, right?"

To distance himself from me, Dr. Peterson immediately declared to the reporters that I had betrayed my medical ethics for money.

"I hereby solemnly declare that the hospital will terminate Dr. Isabella Hayes' employment and pursue all her professional misconduct and illegal gains!"

Like a stray dog, I was thrown out by security at the hospital entrance, left to face the furious mob of netizens nearby.

Only when I was beaten, bruised, and curled up on the ground did the crowd scatter like a flock of birds as a patrol car passed by.

That night, I don't know how I survived. My eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, desperately searching for evidence to clear my name.

But before I could find anything, my family also suffered.

I finally drifted off as dawn broke, only to be startled awake by my sister Mia's tearful call:

"Bella, Mom was cursed at today when she took me to school, and our doorstep is covered in trash. Mom said, don't send her money anymore, she can't use it…"

"This is a disaster!"

In the background, I could hear my mother's faint sobs.

After hanging up, Liam, my boyfriend of three years, also sent a message:

[Bella, I believe you’re innocent, but the public pressure is too immense. My parents want me to keep my distance from you for now. Let’s not contact each other for a while.]

A cold, unopened takeout container sat on my table, but I had no appetite. My phone screen constantly popped up with news alerts.

Eleanor Vance’s new video was trending again. She appeared without makeup, wearing black-rimmed glasses, clutching a framed photo of her daughter. Her voice was hoarse:

"This unscrupulous doctor killed my child! I’ve already appointed a lawyer. See you in court, I will not accept a settlement!"