WAS I TOO LATE?

Goodbye isn’t peaceful

barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the assassin's knife flashing beneath the streetlight, heard his voice whispering that I wouldn't survive a second time, and woke with my heart pounding against my ribs. By sunrise, the bruises on my wrists had already begun to darken, reminding me that none of it had been a nightmare. Dressed quietly, tied my hair into a low ponytail, and forced myself to head for the clinic. Staying home would only give fear a place to grow, and I refused to let whoever wanted me dead steal the last days I had left in Ashwood.

The moment I stepped outside, I knew something had changed. Conversations stopped as I walked past. Women who normally greeted me with warm smiles suddenly lowered their voices. Two elderly men standing outside the bakery looked at me before pretending to continue their discussion. A little boy waved at me, only for his mother to gently pull his hand down and lead him away. My footsteps slowed. The attack had frightened everyone, but this... this felt different. It wasn't fear. It was suspicion.

Mrs. Martha hurried toward me before I could reach the clinic. Her face carried the same kindness it always had, but her eyes were filled with worry. "Don't mind them," she said softly, taking my hand. "People believe whatever reaches their ears first."

A knot formed in my stomach. "Believe what?"

She hesitated.

That hesitation told me everything.

"What are they saying?"

She sighed. "Someone started a rumor last night. They're saying Mrs. Briggs offered you money to change her husband's death certificate... and that you accepted it."

For a second, I simply stared at her.

Then I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was ridiculous.

"Nobody would actually believe that."

Mrs. Martha didn't answer.

My smile slowly disappeared as I looked around the village again. The whispers. The stares. The silence whenever I walked by.

Someone had made sure they believed it.

By the time I unlocked the clinic, three appointments had already been canceled. Two patients who had been waiting outside quietly stood up and left without saying a word. Another woman walked in carrying her sick daughter, only to freeze when she saw me. She hesitated for several uncomfortable seconds before forcing an awkward smile.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Doctor. We'll come back another day."

Before I could respond, she hurried out.

I stood alone in the middle of the clinic, staring at the still-open door.

This was the same woman who had trusted me to deliver her child two years ago.

Now she couldn't even trust me to examine a fever.

The bell above the door rang again.

This time, Ethan walked in.

One look at my face told him everything.

"You've heard."

I nodded.

"They're saying I took a bribe."

"I know."

"They actually believe it."

His jaw tightened.

"Not everyone."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does."

He stepped closer, his voice calm but firm.

"I've already questioned several people. Every single one of them heard the rumor from someone else. Nobody knows where it started."

"So someone planned this."

"I'm certain of it."

Before I could answer, loud voices erupted outside.

Curious, we stepped onto the porch.

A small crowd had gathered in front of the clinic.

Mrs. Briggs stood among them, dressed entirely in black.

"I came here yesterday to ask the doctor for help," she announced loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Instead, she demanded money before she'd even consider changing my husband's records."

Gasps spread through the crowd.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"That's a lie."

She turned toward me, tears filling her eyes with practiced perfection.

"I begged you."

"You asked me to falsify an official document."

"I asked you to show compassion."

"You asked me to commit a crime."

The crowd grew restless.

Some people looked uncertain.

Others looked convinced.

Mrs. Briggs covered her face as though trying to hide her sobs.

"I only wanted my husband to rest in peace."

"And I wanted the truth to be recorded."

She slowly lowered her hands.

"The truth?" she repeated bitterly. "Or your price?"

Before I could answer, Grandpa Ben's walking stick struck the ground with a loud c***k.

"Enough!"

Every head turned toward him.

The old man slowly walked to the front of the crowd, ignoring the worried protests of his granddaughter.

"I nearly died four days ago," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "This young woman brought me back with her own hands. She has treated this village for eight years. She has delivered our children, buried our dead with dignity, and refused payment more times than I can count. If anyone standing here believes Dr. Ariana would sell her integrity for money..." He swept his gaze across the crowd. "...then shame on you. You never knew her at all."

Silence settled over the square.

One by one, people lowered their eyes.

Mrs. Briggs' expression hardened for only a fraction of a second before she turned and walked away without another word.

Ethan watched her leave.

"So that's her game."

"What do you mean?"

"She couldn't buy your silence."

He looked at me grimly.

"So she's trying to destroy your reputation instead."

The rest of the day passed in uneasy silence. Some patients returned after hearing Grandpa Ben defend me. Others didn't. By evening, the village hall was decorated with paper lanterns and handmade banners that read We'll Miss You, Dr. Ariana! Children ran between the tables while the smell of homemade food filled the air. Everyone tried to smile, but the scandal lingered beneath every conversation like a storm cloud waiting to break.

Near the entrance stood a young woman in a white coat, nervously clutching a folder to her chest.

The village chief waved me over.

"Ariana, I'd like you to meet Dr. Elena Hart. She'll be taking over the clinic after you leave."

I smiled warmly and offered my hand.

"It's nice to meet you."

"I've heard so much about you," she admitted, shaking my hand. "Honestly... I'm terrified. I don't think I can ever live up to everything you've done here."

"You don't have to," I said gently. "Just take care of them. That's enough."

At that moment, Ethan walked into the hall.

The village chief called his name.

"Ethan, could you help Dr. Hart carry her luggage to the guest house after dinner?"

"Of course."

He stepped forward, taking the heavy suitcase from her without hesitation.

"Careful," he said with a small smile. "These steps are uneven."

Elena looked up at him, momentarily speechless.

"...Thank you."

She watched him walk ahead, an unconscious smile touching her lips before she quickly looked away.

Grandpa Ben leaned toward Mrs. Martha and whispered with a grin, "Looks like someone's heart just skipped a beat."

Mrs. Martha elbowed him lightly.

"Behave."

He only chuckled.

Across the room, Ethan remained completely oblivious.