"Beatrice, shut your mouth! Do you even realize Dr. Humphrey performed three major surgeries yesterday without rest? She barely had two bites of bread and a sip of glucose between operations!"
Another added, furious, "Exactly! You sit in the office with air conditioning, skipping ward rounds, pushing your work onto others. You have no idea how hard Dr. Humphrey works! She got home past midnight. Phones die—what's so strange about forgetting to charge it after a day like that?"
Even the family members of the patient I had saved yesterday stood up in my defense.
"Besides, Dr. Humphrey fulfilled her duty during her own shift. Last night wasn't even her scheduled hours!"
The crowd began murmuring in agreement, realization dawning on their faces.
Even the colleagues who had assisted Beatrice last night couldn't stand it anymore.
"Enough, Dr. Ingram. Dr. Humphrey wasn't on duty—it wasn't her responsibility. If anyone's to blame, it's us for being unlucky enough to be there with you."
Beatrice stumbled back, collapsing onto the floor, her lips pale as chalk.
"What's all this ruckus?!"