Saving A Stranger Cost Me Half A Million

Outside the ER, a woman clad in luxury brands is in the middle of lashing out hysterically at a camera.

"That stupid deliveryman is the one responsible for crashing my two-million-dollar Porsche! He even tried to steal my Hermès bag that was inside in the car! When I caught him red-handed, he tried to assault me, too!

"If he doesn't pay me 500 thousand dollars today, I'll make sure that he spends the rest of his life in jail!"

As soon as the woman is done, she collapses to the floor while clutching her chest. Obviously, she's faking her collapse.

How can a mother this vile possibly exist in this world?

Half an hour ago, that woman has locked her three-year-old son up in her car—that's exposed under the bright sun—just so she can go to a beauty spa for cosmetic procedures.

In order to save the dying child, I have no choice but to smash the window.

But that woman now paints me as the bad guy in this situation and insists on ruining my life. Unfortunately for her, she doesn't notice the action camera on my helmet.

The harsh white lights outside the emergency room were blinding.

Layla Wagner grabbed my delivery uniform by the collar and yanked hard. With a sharp rip, the fabric tore open. Her pointed nails raked across my neck, leaving three stinging cuts.

"It's him! This broke delivery guy smashed my Porsche and tried to steal my Hermès bag!" she shrieked, shoving her phone right at my face as she recorded.

The patients and their families in the area quickly closed in on us. Several security guards rushed over, wrenched my arms behind my back, and slammed me against the wall, holding me there.

My cheek was pressed against the cold tiles, leaving me unable to move.

"Let go! I was trying to save someone!" I shouted.

"Save someone? Who do you think you are, playing hero?" Layla snapped and smacked my helmet.

A dull thud sounded, and my ears buzzed.

Two police officers pushed through the crowd.

"What's going on here? Release him!" the stocky officer barked.

The guards released me. I straightened up and rubbed my aching shoulders.

Layla immediately rushed forward and clung to the officer's arm.

"Officer, you need to do something! He's a known thief. He smashed my window to rob me. My Porsche cost over two million dollars, and the damage will come up to at least 500 thousand dollars to fix. I'm also demanding compensation for emotional distress. If he doesn't pay up today, I'll have him locked up!"

The officer frowned and turned to me.

"And what's your side of the story?"

I pointed at the red-lit emergency room door.

"She locked her three-year-old son inside a car in the blazing heat. By the time we found him, he was already suffocating, in shock, and foaming at the mouth. I smashed the window with a bike lock to get him out."

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Oh my god, she locked a child in a car?"

"In this heat? It must've been scorching inside!"

Layla turned around and jabbed a finger at me.

"That's bullshit! My son was just taking a nap in the car. The air conditioning was on. Who gave you the right to smash my window?"

I looked at her coldly.

"The engine wasn't even running. When the child was pulled out, his body was already turning purple. He wasn't breathing."

Her gaze flickered, but then she suddenly clutched her chest.

"My chest… It hurts…"

Her body went limp as she collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

"He smashed my car and slandered me… He's going to make me drop dead…"

A few bystanders hurried over to help her up.

"Young man, that's not right. You can't lie your way out after doing something wrong," an older woman scolded.

"Exactly. Just because someone has a nice car, you smashed it out of jealousy. Youngsters these days are terrifying," an elderly man chimed in.

I clenched my fists until my knuckles cracked.

Then I turned to look at the glowing red light above the emergency room.