Chapter 1

While at work, I accidentally sent a photo of a car I meant for the auto shop to our work group chat instead.

A new intern sharply questioned me:

"Joanna, why are you sending photos of my car? Are you eyeing my sports car or something?"

I was confused and asked if she'd made a mistake—this was my car.

She immediately sent a series of photos and videos of herself driving the supercar, proving it was hers.

Then she added sarcastically:

"Some broke people really have no shame. This sports car was custom-made for me by my husband. There's only one like it in the entire world. Did you think stealing a photo of my car would make you Mrs. Reid?"

I frowned and looked over at my husband beside me, asking:

"Do you have a second wife I don't know about?"

Because I was too busy at work, I accidentally sent the car photo meant for the auto shop to the intern group chat instead.

Before I could unsend it, several interns had already seen it, and the chat immediately exploded:

"Holy shit! A starlight-roof supercar—the customization alone must cost hundreds of thousands! Joanna's actually loaded!"

"Never would've guessed Joanna's a trust fund kid!"

"What do Joanna's parents do? That supercar must be at least five million dollars, right?"

The chat quickly filled with dozens of messages, all asking about my family background.

Several male interns even privately messaged me asking to take me to dinner.

Feeling a bit helpless, I casually explained:

"I'm not a trust fund kid. It's just a birthday gift from my husband. Everyone should focus on work instead..."

Before I could finish, intern Quinn Rivera suddenly jumped in:

"Joanna, why are you sending photos of my car?"

"And claiming it's a birthday gift from your husband—are you trying to brag that your husband's a billionaire?"

"I shouldn't have driven my car to the hospital. Having someone like you steal photos to show off is just my bad luck!"

The barrage of accusations left me instantly bewildered. I asked in confusion:

"Quinn, I think you've misunderstood. Maybe our cars look similar?"

She went silent for a few seconds, then started frantically posting various photos of herself with the supercar in the group chat, including videos of her driving from the driver's seat.

Her tone became even more mocking:

"My starlight-roof supercar is custom-made, one of a kind in the entire world. How dare you, some broke doctor, claim it looks like yours?"

"You steal one photo and dare to say it's yours—you might as well take a photo in front of the White House and claim that's your house too!"

This blatant ridicule immediately reversed the other interns' attitudes. They all turned on me:

"Joanna, that's not how you show off... This is so embarrassing."

"If you don't have a car, just say so. Nobody's judging. No need to do something this pathetic and get called out by Quinn."

"Never thought there'd be attention-seekers like this at the hospital. And she's supposed to be training us? Hope she doesn't turn us all into liars too, hahaha."

Another stream of passive-aggressive comments followed. Some even tagged me directly, demanding I apologize to Quinn.

I frowned and tagged Quinn directly:

"What's going on? Why were you in my car? And when were those videos taken?"

I participated in designing the starlight roof in my car—it was unique.

So the moment Quinn posted those photos and videos, I knew that was my car. That's why I confronted her directly.

Quinn: [Can you have some shame? Even now you're still claiming it's your car. Do I really need to drive it right up to your face before you'll give up?]

"If it's really your car, then tell me what color the interior is right now."

"Gray."

I answered confidently. I'd just had the auto shop change the color a few days ago.

But the next second, Quinn sent a photo—a selfie of her sitting inside the car, with the interior now changed to pink.

She immediately laughed mockingly:

"Of course trashy people are trashy—you slipped up with one sentence! When you stole that photo of my car, the interior was gray, but I changed it to pink yesterday!"

"What's wrong? Can't find updated stolen photos fast enough?"

Seeing this, everyone in the group became even more convinced the car was Quinn's, and they all piled on to attack me.

"Joanna looks so aloof, but she's actually this vain! Having someone like her as our supervisor is really bad luck!"

"Exactly. She sees someone driving a luxury car, steals photos to lie about it, and now gets exposed by Quinn. How embarrassing!"

"She opens her mouth and lies—maybe her impressive academic credentials are lies too. Aren't there lots of female doctors who sleep with old professors just to publish papers?"

The comments got more and more exaggerated, even making up scandals about me.

I was furious and about to fight back when a colleague notified me about an emergency surgery I needed to perform immediately.

Hearing this, I had no time to deal with these interns in the chat. I rushed off to do the surgery.