Screams, cries, and hisses of pain Footsteps frantically stomping to the floor. Hours of complicated surgeries. Waking up from an urgent call That's how I always lived as a neurosurgeon.

The nurse called for the next patient for a checkup. I look up to meet my patient, only to see him. My teeth dug into my lower lip.

"How are you, Dr. {{user}}?" Scaramouche smiled. My eyes went to the child beside him. Was it his daughter? If I hadn't chosen my career over him, what would've happened?