Chapter 769

The rooftop wind whipped through Lena’s hair, sharp enough to feel like nature itself was rooting for her demise. She bit her lip, wondering, “Did anyone even notice I’m missing? Or nah?” But she shoved the thought aside; if she wanted out of this alive, it was on her.

With a shaky breath, she squared up. “So, if you’re set on making me your revenge trophy for your wife and kid, fine, I can’t stop you. But could I at least get a word in? Like, when my parents start hunting you down, could you maybe deliver a message for me?”

It was obvious the guy had loved his family hard; you don’t pull this level of crazy for casual feelings.

“Save it,” Mr. Baxter snapped. Yikes.

Lena didn’t waste time arguing. Instead, she dove right in. “My mom’s not in great health. She had complications after I was born, and if something happens to me… just don’t tell her, okay? She wouldn’t handle it well. And my dad? He looks tough, but he’s a total softie. Cries at the drop of a hat. If he finds out I’m gone, he’ll break down completely. Please, tell him not to cry. Tell him that in my next life, I’ll still be his daughter. Oh, and he’s been craving some purslane from back home. I already set up for someone to send it, so make sure he gets it.”

“My grandparents, too. They’re old and fragile. Don’t tell them what happened to me. Say I’m busy with surgeries or off abroad for training.”

Lena hesitated, then smiled faintly. “And… I have a boyfriend. He’s super busy, always working. Honestly, half the time, we don’t even have real dates. If he moves on, tell him his next girlfriend won’t put up with that. No girl wants to feel like an afterthought.”

Mr. Baxter snorted. “And you’re okay with a boyfriend like that?”

Her heart stuttered. ‘He’s actually listening!’ Bingo. A guy who loved his wife and kid this much couldn’t be completely heartless.

Playing along, she replied, “It’s not his fault. He’s making a living. Men have to provide for their families, hard, you know? Gotta make a…”

Mr. Baxter let out another scoff. “You’re way too forgiving.”

“I try to be,” Lena murmured. “My boyfriend says the same.” She hesitated; then added gently, “You know, for a man and woman to really be happy, they’ve gotta understand and support each other. You and your wife must’ve had that. That’s why losing her hurts so much.”

Chapter 768

“If it weren’t for you people…” Mr. Baxter’s voice cracked. “We could’ve been a family of three.”

The raw pain in his words hit Lena like a punch to the gut. She forced herself to stay calm, her tone steady but empathetic. “You’re right. We failed to save her. But I need you to know—it’s never easy for us either.”

She exhaled softly. “I’ve delivered 1,385 babies as an obstetrician. The most beautiful sound in the world? A baby’s first cry. But do you know what we dread the most? Silence. A baby who doesn’t cry. When that happens, we act fast, slapping their tiny backs over and over, desperate to hear that wail.”

“Still, sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we can’t save them. I’ll never forget the 762nd baby I delivered. Premature. Swallowed amniotic fluid.”

“Usually, we’d use machines to clear it, but this baby’s organs were so fragile, we had to suction manually. One doctor took over when another couldn’t keep going. We worked until we couldn’t stand anymore, and… we still lost them.”

She swallowed hard. “When we lose a patient, the family isn’t the first to cry. We are. Declaring a death feels like being gutted over and over. And the guilt? It’s unbearable. Why couldn’t we save them? Why couldn’t we work a miracle?”

“You feel guilty?” Mr. Baxter asked, his tone laced with doubt.

Lena caught the slight crack in his voice. His anger wasn’t as sharp now; it wavered, tangled with something softer. She exhaled quietly. “Yes,” she said gently. “Do you know what most doctors say? In our next life, we’d never want to be doctors again.”

She paused, letting the words settle. “Because we can’t stand feeling so helpless. Watching families like yours fall apart—it’s unbearable.”

Mr. Baxter didn’t reply. The silence between them stretched, heavy and loaded. Lena could tell he was wrestling with it, stuck between the grief tearing him apart and the anger pinning the blame on her and her team.

But something in her gut told her he was going to let her go.

Just as she clung to that fragile hope, footsteps clattered across the rooftop, loud and jarring. Her nerves went haywire. Mr. Baxter jolted too, yanking her closer. “Don’t come any closer!” he barked into the night.

Out of the darkness came a calm, unshakable command. “Let her go. Walk away, and no one gets hurt.”

That voice—it stopped Lena cold. She knew it.