What She Broke

Everyone in the lab was stunned by my reaction. No one had expected me to go straight for Sheila.

She had been playing the victim, sniffling and crying, but the moment I shoved her close enough that her face nearly touched a sharp lab blade, she dropped the act completely and shrieked.

"Rose, are you crazy? Are you trying to ruin my face?"

I let out an icy laugh and flung her aside. Looking down at her, I said, "Weren't you acting all pitiful just now? Why'd you stop crying?"

Sheila forced down the hatred in her eyes. When she looked up again, her face was full of guilt.

"Rose, I'm really sorry… If cutting my face will make you feel better, then go ahead.

"I know you've always hated this face of mine anyway. Just because I'm prettier than you… If that's the case, then I'll destroy it."

As she spoke, she reached for the blade, pretending like she was about to slash her own face.

Of course, the others were not about to let her hurt herself. They rushed forward to stop her.

Sheila cried even harder and leaned right into a male colleague's arms.

With a beautiful girl clinging to him, the guy immediately lost all sense and turned on me.

"Rose, you've gone too far. Sheila accidentally ruined your experiment, and now you're forcing her to disfigure herself? Are you really upset about your experiment, or are you just jealous because Sheila is prettier than you?"

His words made everyone look at me. Their eyes were filled with disdain.

Sheila, on the other hand, looked pleased.

I let out a sharp laugh and pulled out my phone.

"Since all of you are questioning my intentions, let's have the police decide what this situation really is.

"You all know how much my experiment is worth. I'd like to find out exactly what the penalty is for destroying someone else's property."

I started to dial the emergency line.

The second Sheila realized what I was doing, she panicked. The others quickly began saying I was taking things too far.

I shot back, "Why is it too far? I'm the one whose experiment was destroyed. I'm the one who won't be able to submit my research paper! I'm the victim. Calling the police is completely reasonable."

As I spoke, I had already dialed 911.

Right at that moment, my phone was suddenly snatched from behind me.

I turned around and saw that the institute's leadership had arrived, drawn by the commotion. At the front of the group stood my supervisor and fiance, Andrew Smith.

The moment I saw him, my eyes burned. All the frustration and grief I had been holding back came rushing out.

No one there understood what that antigen meant to me. It was not just about publishing a paper or earning my degree. It was the last hope of curing Andrew.

Three years ago, he was diagnosed with lupus. The illness kept coming back, torturing him without end. Watching him suffer felt like knives in my chest.

So, during my doctorate program, I searched through medical literature from all over the world, trying to develop an effective antigen.

For three full years, I never gave up. I stayed up night after night, studying and experimenting. Just last week, I finally made a breakthrough. I was so close to treating his condition.

Then, all of it had been destroyed by Sheila.

Andrew stood there in his white lab coat beside the director, as handsome and composed as ever. No one could see the marks of illness hidden beneath his shirt, the evidence of everything he had endured.

My throat tightened. I stepped forward, wanting to hug him.

However, someone beat me to it.

A figure rushed ahead of me and threw herself into his arms, her voice trembling with tears.

"Andrew, you're finally here… If you'd come any later, Rose would've ruined my face. I was so scared…"