Chapter 3
"Wesker, where are you? Don't you know the hospital urgently needs that heart? What's going on?"
Hearing the department director's questioning voice felt like hearing heavenly music.
"Director, I've been detained at the highway toll station."
"What? Who dares detain an ambulance?"
"There was an accident. When we got on the highway, we weren't in an ambulance."
"Bob. He's accusing me of being a murderer."
I quickly explained everything that had happened.
The department director raised his voice. "Put the toll station staff on the phone."
"Hello! I'm the director of the transplant department at First People's Hospital. That heart is urgently needed. We're processing the paperwork."
"Can you be flexible and let her deliver the heart first? In 18 minutes, the heart will fail."
The toll collector remained silent.
"Don't believe her. It's a scam. She's in on it."
Bob roared.
"She can't provide any proof. She can't prove where this heart came from at all."
The department director recognized Bob's voice. "Bob, why exactly are you reporting Wesker?"
"How about this—you detain Wesker, and you find someone to accompany Bob to deliver the heart to the hospital first."
Only 16 minutes remained.
I nodded quickly. "No problem. I'm willing to wait here."
As long as the heart could be delivered to the hospital in time, I was willing to wait here for investigation.
"No way. The heart is evidence."
"They murdered for this heart. Don't fall for it."
Bob desperately blocked them, making the toll collector, who had been wavering, stop in her tracks.
"The police are coming soon. As soon as we investigate clearly, I'll let her go."
"Snap." The phone was hung up.
"This is a human life—two human lives. If it's delayed, no one can bear that responsibility."
Not wanting this heart to fail, I pleaded desperately.
"Or detain both of us, and you find someone to deliver it."
The toll collector stopped paying attention to me, clutching that box tightly.
I prayed. I prayed for the police to arrive quickly.
When I heard the siren, I glanced at my phone.
Thirteen minutes remained.
My phone flashed twice. It was a Twitter message from the department director.
"Please look. This must be the processed paperwork sent by the hospital."
The toll collector impatiently opened her phone.
I snatched it. "This is all the paperwork. Everything's complete."
"This is the patient's donation consent form. This is the declaration signed when the Second Hospital patient gave up transplantation. This is our hospital's heart transfer consent form."
The toll collector carefully examined each document.
"Looks correct to me. Maybe we should let her go."
Hearing this, I quickly straightened up, ready to depart at any moment.
Though time was tight, with a police car escort we could still make it.
"No. All these documents can be forged. Don't fall for it."
To convince the toll collector, Bob opened ChatGPT and entered commands.
Soon, documents identical to those on the phone appeared.
"AI is so powerful. It can generate anything instantly. Don't let her fool you."
Looking at the identical documents, the toll collector grew troubled.
"The police are coming anyway. Wait a bit longer. Once the investigation's done, you can leave."
I watched the approaching police with a heart like dead ashes.
These dozen-plus minutes—I could wait, but the heart in that box couldn't.
The boy who'd spent five years in a hospital bed sustained by machines couldn't wait.
"Who made the report?"
Bob stepped forward. "Me. I'm reporting her for murder. The box contains a heart. It's evidence."
"This vehicle is the crime scene."
I stepped forward quickly, explaining at the fastest speed.
"Ma'am, after we inspect the vehicle, if we can rule out suspicion, we'll take you to the hospital."
"Fine! Please hurry. That's a human life."
Even though Bob had switched vehicles, I'd only been sitting in the car for an hour holding the box.
How could it be connected to a murder scene?
"Captain, come look at this."
The team leader took one look and kicked me down.
"Cuff her. Take her away."