The Prisoner Who Became a Doctor

The sound of a car stalling came from outside the gate. My hand gripping the hoe froze. "Excuse me, is this Mr. Felix Shaw's residence?" The man's voice was urgent, carrying a familiarity that made my heart skip a beat. I turned to look—it was Chris Jones. We hadn't seen each other for five years. He was dressed in a tailored suit, with a strikingly made-up woman by his side, holding a boy of about four or five in her arms. "Are you... the servant here?" Chris frowned as he appraised me. I remained silent, my gaze locked on his face. "You look a bit like an old acquaintance of mine," he hesitated, "but she wouldn't look like this." You... had plastic surgery? The woman beside him scoffed, linking her arm with Chris's. "Chris, enough about old acquaintances. We're here to seek medical help." Is Dr. Shaw here? We came here because of his reputation. If you delay my son's condition, can you be held responsible? I put down the hoe and brushed off the dirt. "Dr. Shaw doesn't see outsiders." "Doesn't see outsiders?" Chris's tone grew firmer. "This is urgent. My son, Alex Jones, has congenital heart disease and must be treated by Dr. Shaw." He pulled out a stack of medical records and handed them over. "No matter the cost, we'll pay." I glanced at the records; the data was inconsistent, the dates didn't match. Casually, I handed them back. "Like I said, he won't see you." "What are you pretending for, just a servant?" The woman stepped forward, looking down on me. "The Jones Family has plenty of money. As long as Dr. Shaw is willing to intervene, the benefits you'll get won't be lacking." "Money? Do you think Dr. Shaw needs it?" I laughed. Chris Jones grabbed the woman's arm, his face dark. "Ms., you're overstepping." "I understand your difficulties, but my son's condition cannot wait." If it's possible, could you make an exception for us? He hesitated. "Actually, the old acquaintance I mentioned earlier is my ex-wife. She used to be a cardiac surgeon named Bella Scott, probably a colleague of Dr. Shaw. Maybe you could mention her name." "Never heard of her." I said quietly. "No way. Bella Scott was once the youngest chief at the Municipal First Central Surgery Department. How could Dr. Shaw not know her?" Chris Jones said urgently, "Could it be that... something happened to her?" My eyes went cold. "I don't know who you're talking about." Please leave and don't disturb the peace here. What's with your attitude!" the woman yelled. "Chris, don't argue with her—let's just go straight inside to see Dr. Shaw! With that, she tried to rush into the courtyard. I reached out to stop her. "This isn't a place you can just walk into." Chris grabbed the woman's arm and glared at me. "Who exactly are you? Why are you stopping us?" "I'm one of the owners here," I said calmly. "Felix Shaw is my husband. If you want to see him for treatment, go to his clinic and make an appointment. This is a private residence; we don't see patients here." "Are you Dr. Shaw's wife?" Chris Jones looked surprised and confused. "But you really do look a lot like Bella Scott..." "Sir, you have the wrong person." I cut him off. "If you don't leave soon, I'll call the police." At that moment, the little boy in his arms suddenly started coughing. "Alex, how are you feeling?" Chris immediately started nervously patting the boy's back. The woman didn't bother arguing. "Is he feeling unwell again? It's all this woman's fault for wasting our time!" I looked at the child — pale but breathing steadily, not showing signs of a severe congenital heart disease episode. "Dr. Shaw isn't going to see you. You should get to another hospital as soon as possible." Chris Jones looked at me intently, then bit his lip and said, "Let's go for now. We'll try Dr. Shaw's clinic." The two hurriedly got into the car and left. My fingertips trembled slightly. Chris Jones, Mindy Lynn—five years have passed, yet they still managed to find us. The one behind all this was that man just now who kept insisting on finding an "old acquaintance."