Good Novel
League 303
League 303
Millie’s heart sank. She hurried over to the windows and glanced down. Yoel’s blood dyed his white shirt red. Even at his death, he clutched his employee ID tightly.
She suddenly understood why he had taken off his white coat. He didn’t want his doctor’s coat stained, as it symbolized his noble career. No one could tarnish it, including himself.
She gulped and slowly clenched her fist before leaving the office. Winston hurried after her with a concerned frown.
When she arrived on the first floor, the security had put up tapes to keep people away. The doctors from the emergency department showed up to help, but they shook their heads at each other when they realized Yoel was gone.
Soon, someone draped a white cloth on Yoel’s body.
Millie, who witnessed the scene unfold, stumbled backward. She then sensed someone holding her waist.
She turned and met Winston’s eyes. Then, she quickly looked away and stepped aside to put a distance between them.
“Is that Dr. Marshall?”
“Goodness me. Did he jump off a building?”
“Oh my god. What happened? I heard he wrote that anonymous letter. Is that true?”
Millie folded her arms on her chest and covered her mouth in disbelief. Never in her wildest imagination had she seen this coming–Yoel jumping off a building.
But it made sense as he was a prideful man. Taking away his right to practice medicine was akin to a
death sentence.
She bit her lip. The frown on her face did not relax.
“Millie, you okay?” Winston asked, checking on her. Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.
She shook her head, believing she was fine. “Just break the news gently to Joanna and talk to her about it.
Deep down, she knew Joanna would never jump off a building over a job loss.
After Yoel’s family was notified of his death, the police took on the case, and the hospital carried the body away.
Millie arrived home well past midnight. Lounging in bed, she couldn’t get the scene of Yoel lying in a pool of blood out of her mind.
With a sigh, she sat in bed and reached for her phone to check Twitter.
As expected, Yoel’s suicide became a trending topic. That didn’t come as a surprise because he was the deputy director of the Cardiac Surgery Department. It was difficult to make it to that position.
After scrolling through the comments, she realized that people online had a positive impression of Yoel.
ey claimed he was a nice person, and some praised him for his excellent skills.
She exited Twitter, refusing to read the comments anymore because they upset her.
Resting her cheek in her palm, she saw a barrage of messages in a WhatsApp group chat for the racers.
A member nicknamed “Cola” texted, “Now? Where’s the race? I’ll be there right away.”
Another member nicknamed “Gummy Bear” wrote, “The race is at Ambrose Street. Hurry up!”
Millie tapped into the group chat and realized that the racers had decided to host a race at midnight out
of boredom.
Since she couldn’t fall asleep, she changed and left her house. On her way out, she ran into Terrence, who was getting some water in the kitchen.
“Where are you going at this hour, and what for?”
“Um, nothing,” she replied coolly and left.
The race had kicked off at Ambrose Street.
Millie showed up in a face mask and a black hoodie. With her hood pulled over, no one could tell who she was from afar.
“Whoever’s joining the next race, please sign up here!” someone shouted with their hand raised.
Millie silently went up and said, “I’m signing up.”
The man in charge of the registration scanned her from head to toe. “Oh, you’re a woman.”
“Yeah. Can I join?” Millie asked.
He chuckled. “Of course, as long as you don’t cry when you lose.”
She hated comments that stereotyped women as sore losers who cried when they lost. Modern women were tough and hardy; they wouldn’t shed tears in the face of challenge.
While letting out one’s emotions was good, crying wouldn’t solve anything.
She signed up for the race with the nickname “Pig“.
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