Rebirth Into My Second Chance

Arriving at the hospital, I spotted the doctor who had performed my prenatal checks. She looked sternly at Claude and asked, "And you are... how exactly do you relate to the patient?" Claude remained silent.

The doctor glanced at my file, noticing the absence of a husband's name, yet someone was there, demanding to see Claire's medical records by name.

Out of privacy concerns, she closed the file and said, "I'm sorry, but we generally don't disclose patient information to non-relatives."

I couldn't help but smirk, thinking the doctor was subtly forcing him to admit he was my husband.

Although it gave me a fleeting sense of satisfaction, it was too late for any admission to change the fate of me and my child. "Claire is my sister," he finally said.

Even at this moment, he clung to the claim that I was just his sister, though we were legally married and exchanged wedding bands. Even though the ring he gave me was too tight, I shoved it on and told Richard, stoked, "I'm married now. I'm gonna be super happy."

Back then, I believed marriage would eventually make him accept me. How wrong I was. That marriage was the beginning of my nightmare.

"The last name on your ID doesn't match Ms. Floyd's, sir. Can't we be honest here? If you don't start telling the truth, I'll have to call the police," the doctor pressed.

I admired the doctor's courage. She was standing up for my privacy against Claude.

Given the negative press storm surrounding Claude and me, I assumed the doctor was aware. She was deliberately taking my side. It touched my spirit literally.

Claude put on his sunglasses, gave a cold look at the medical record with my neat handwriting spelling out "Claire Floyd," and then left.

So stubborn. Claude would never admit our marital status in front of others.

Watching him walk away, the doctor sighed deeply, touched my name on the file, and said, "Having a child with someone like that... It's just not worth it," before locking my file away in a cabinet. Suddenly, my spirit stopped following Claude. I lingered in the hospital, aimlessly drifting.

'Where should go?' I asked myself. In life, I didn't know where to go. In death, I remained without a place to belong. What a sad existence I'd fed. I felt weary. I tried to lean against a wall but passed right through it.

Looking up, I thought I saw Kate. What was she doing at the matemity ward at this time? But then, in a blink, she was gone. Perhaps she was pregnant and had come for a

check-up.

I turned to leave, but my spirit felt drawn to follow her.

She was sneaking around with something hidden in her arms and headed to the lab. After handing off whatever she had to a doctor, she left the hospital hurriedly.

I could sense her muscles relax after she handed over some vials. In her rush, she bumped into a doctor, dropped something without noticing, and continued walking. Wearing his crisp white coat and mask, this doctor exuded an air of aloofness and dignity.

For lack of anywhere else to go, my spirit stayed, watching him. He elegantly stooped to pick up the dropped item.

I moved closer out of curiosity to see. It was my picture. And not just any picture, but my untouched, raw ID photo.

I wondered, 'Why has Kate brought my picture to the hospital?'Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

I expected this handsome doctor to

discard it, but he slipped my photo into his pocket. So, my spirit followed him to the rooftop. The wind up there was strong, nearly

sweeping me away several times.

BUMS

He seemed to be making a phone call, his voice pleasant to the ear. The gist seemed to be inquiring why Kate had come to the hospital.

Feeling sad, I realized even strangers cared about Kate, likely due to her delicate and lovable appearance.

As my spirit was about to drift away, I heard the doctor say, "I've sent you a photo. Investigate this girl. I saw her that night."

He asked someone to look into me, claiming he had seen me that night.

Which night? I couldn't recall ever meeting the doctor, especially since he wore a mask, making him unrecognizable.

Or perhaps even without the mask, I wouldn't recognize him. After all, Claude had been my sole focus for years, stopping me from noticing anyone else.

Maybe because he held onto my photo, my spirit couldn't leave. Instead, I found myself bound to follow him.