Chapter 7
Linda shook off her thoughts, voice steady but quick. “Adrian, stop them! They can’t cut off Avery’s leg!”
She wasn’t the same Linda anymore.
In one of her past worlds, she’d lived as a woman whose loved one died from illness. Heartbroken, that woman vowed to become a miracle doctor to save lives and stop tragedies.
Linda spent ten years going from medical novice to world–class physician, making that dream real.
One case stayed with her: a girl facing amputation to survive.
The surgery to save her leg had a 50% chance of working.
Linda nailed it.
Now, she’d change Avery’s fate. She’d keep her alive–bold, fearless, complete.
Adrian shouted, “If they don’t amputate, she’ll die! Leg or life, Linda?”
I can save her life and her leg!” Linda shot back?
No time to explain. Linda threw out the words and ran for the door.
“You can?” Adrian said, shocked. “Joel says it’s amputation or nothing. He’s a
Linda paused. “Joel Preston?”
Joel Preston, sixth Preston son. A genius.
medical legend.”
He read medical books at three, prescribed at six, shook up the field by twelve.
Now, at twenty–three, he was a global star, stacking miracles and awards.
He was a top–ten medical giant–the only one under sixty.
Of course, people would never doubt his authority.
Linda paused and said, “Adrian, trust me. I’ve got
this.”
“I trust you,” Adrian said, feeling half–insane.
I believe her, he thought.
“Linda, a doctor? Joel’s out of options, and she’s some actress. But.. I beli
Actually, he had and would always trust her.
“Adrian, stall them. I’m coming,” Linda said.
“You got it,” he replied.
The idea of facing Joel hit her. She doubled back, changed clothes, and bolted to the underground garage.
Among hundreds of luxury sedans and sports cars, she chose the best: a limited–edition Koenigsegg Agera.
It hits 60 miles per hour in just 2.9 seconds, and it was impossible to get now.
The silver–gray supercar snaked through city traffic, insanely fast yet smooth,
Its engine growled, loud and fearless.
“Whoa, what just flew by? A car?” a guy on the sidewalk gasped, craning his neck.
“No way, this is downtown, not a track. That was, like, 120 miles an hour. Crazy speed!” his friend said, eyes wide.
“Yeah, not a car. What was that?” another passerby muttered, squinting after it.
“You’re seeing things, dude,” a woman nearby laughed, shaking her head.
The supercar skidded to a halt outside the hospital.
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Chapter 7
Linda didn’t bother with the keys, sprinting into the lobby.
Behind her, a crowd formed, staring at the sleek car, jealous.
Elevators were too slow. She took the stairs.
Four floors to the operating room, she wasn’t even winded, her steps solid.
She pulled up her hoodie, put on a mask and black–framed glasses, hiding her face completely.
Then she walked toward the chaos at the operating room door.
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