5
I calmly explained, “Remember the surgical simulator I was ‘playing’ with in my office before my leave?”
“I wasn’t practicing. I was performing the final program calibration for a micro-surgical
robot I modified.”
“It’s called Hummingbird. It’s only 5 millimeters in diameter. It was my mentor’s last concept before he passed away. I completed it.”
“On the day of the surgery, it was mixed in with the regular instruments and sent into the operating room. It has its own independent 4K imaging and data analysis module, recording the most authentic truth of that surgery.”
My words plunged the entire hall into silence. Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at the footage transmitted by the Hummingbird on the screen.
In the video, Dylan’s hand trembled like a leaf during the critical steps. With one cut, he was about to sever a crucial blood supply artery!
Just at that critical moment, a clear, calm voice came through his miniature earpiece: “Idiot! Wrong angle! Shift left 3 degrees, reduce depth by 0.5 millimeters! Quick!”
Dylan, like a manipulated puppet, hastily followed the instructions, narrowly avoiding disaster. The subsequent footage completely devolved into a farce.
Dylan, under the remote control of that mysterious voice, fumbled through the entire surgery. He wasn’t the lead surgeon at all; he was merely a puppet on strings!
The live stream exploded!
“Oh my God! A proxy hand! Can surgeries have a proxy hand?!”
“My heavens, so Dylan is a quack! The real hero is the person in the earpiece!”
“This is murder! Playing with a patient’s life!”
Dylan collapsed into a chair, his face ashen, muttering, “Impossible… how could you…”
I ignored him and looked at my parents, their faces deathly pale. They were completely
stunned.
Then, I switched to another file on the USB drive. On the big screen, a series of detailed scientific test reports appeared.
“These are my weekly blood sample test reports from the past three months. This is my hair sample test report. And these are the residue test reports I extracted from the water dispenser at home, my personal water cup, and even the soup my mother personally
stewed for me.”
I pointed to the prominent chemical formula on the screen, my voice icy. “All reports
point to the same substance – neurotoxin X.”
“It precisely damages peripheral nerves in the hand, causing irreversible damage. This is the real reason my hand was trembling.”
I looked coldly at Chloe, who was now slumped in her wheelchair, and pressed her, “Sister, you said I poisoned you. Where’s your evidence? Is your so-called evidence just those few lab reports in Dylan’s hand that can be easily forged?”
“As for me, I have eyewitnesses, physical evidence, and scientific test reports, all
complete.”
“Now, tell me, who was poisoning whom?”
Chloe’s face was as white as a sheet. She glared at me, full of venom, still trying to argue, “It was you! You poisoned yourself, then framed me! You’re crazy!”
“I’m crazy?” I laughed, a laugh filled with profound sorrow. “Yes, I am going crazy. Betrayed by my beloved sister and the man I loved, living every day in fear of being poisoned, yes, I’m going crazy.”
Then, I turned to the police. “Officers, I’ll leave these despicable individuals to you!”
Flashbulbs flashed like mad. Reporters excitedly pushed forward, trying to capture this historic moment. Dylan completely broke down.
He pointed at me, then at the pale-faced TheraMed executives below the stage, shouting incoherently, “It’s not my fault! It was them! TheraMed forced me to do this! It was Chloe! Chloe instigated me! It was all her idea!”
He resembled a mad dog, trying to push all responsibility away. My parents, Eleanor and Richard, were dumbfounded.
They couldn’t accept that their gentle, kind, obedient daughter, whom they had loved for over twenty years, could be a venomous, murderous woman.
