An older man in the crowd looked worried, his brow furrowed. "Miss, maybe it's best to call for an ambulance. That little one is in bad shape, and if you're not a real doctor, you shouldn't be taking risks."
A woman nearby gasped, clutching her chest. "Oh heavens, is she... is she dead? Young lady, do you understand what you've done? Do you have any idea what will come for you?"
Another woman, voice softer but full of concern, tried to reason with Stephanie. "Sweetheart, maybe you should just let her be. She isn't your responsibility, and she looks so sick. One pill can't fix a problem like this."
Stephanie's tone was steady. "You can all relax. I know exactly what I'm doing."
She reached into her kit, ready to give the little girl another blue pill.
Before she could, Aimee darted in and snatched it from her hand. "What is this even supposed to be? Who do you think you are, just giving random pills? You're no doctor!"
Aimee took out her phone and started recording. "Go ahead, keep pretending. I've got it all on video now. If anything happens to her, don't think for a second my family will protect you."
She waved her phone for everyone to see. "I have proof. If this goes wrong, you'll have to answer for it."
Stephanie's patience finally snapped. "If you want her to live, then stop interfering!"
Just then, a man in a crisp white coat stepped out from the crowd. Aimee latched onto him, hopeful. "Sir, are you a doctor? There's someone here pretending to be a doctor and risking this girl's life. Please do something!"
The man nodded calmly. "Yes, I am a doctor."
The man in the white coat turned out to be Aaron's personal doctor, one of the elite specialists brought in for Waylon's medical gathering.
With a sense of triumph, Aimee handed him Stephanie's bottle of blue pills, eager to see Stephanie proven wrong by a real expert.
The doctor took the bottle, examined it closely, then glanced at Stephanie in open disbelief. "Where did you get this?"
That was all Aimee needed to hear. She grabbed Stephanie's arm, gloating. "Did you hear that? Even a professional doctor doesn't recognize your so-called medicine. Stop pretending you have a clue what you're doing!"
She pulled out her phone. "That's it. I'm calling the police. You've killed someone, and you're going to pay for it."
The doctor turned a sharp look on Aimee, his tone cold. "Enough of that. This is a cutting-edge drug developed by a national research institute—an innovation in gene editing."
Aimee rolled her eyes, refusing to believe him. "A cutting-edge drug? How is that possible? Are you working with her or something?"
She lashed out, aiming a kick at Stephanie's medical kit.
Stephanie's patience snapped. In one smooth move, she struck Aimee's arm twice with practiced precision.
Aimee shrieked. Within seconds, both her arm and right leg went numb, pain shooting through her body. Her face crumpled as she slumped to the ground, shouting, "What did you do to me?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
With Aimee stopped interfering at last, Stephanie returned her focus to the patient. She drew a vial of clear liquid into a syringe, carefully disinfected the injection site, and administered it to the girl.
Just moments later, the girl blinked awake. Confusion flickered across her face as she looked up at Stephanie. "Pretty lady, did you help me?"
Stephanie smiled and nodded. "Yes. Rest for now—I'll take you home soon."
The crowd broke into spontaneous applause, their skepticism replaced with awe. "Incredible medicine!" someone exclaimed.
"Her medical skills are extraordinary!"
"We were so close to doubting her. Thank goodness we didn't."
Meanwhile, Aaron's personal doctor caught sight of a distinct emblem on Stephanie's medical kit—a symbol said to be reserved for Dr. Clayton alone.
His gaze sharpened as he studied the young woman standing before him. A wild suspicion sparked in his mind.
Before he could stop himself, he blurted out with excitement, "Miss, are you acquainted with Dr. Clayton by any chance?"
