Chances to Another Life

41. I Was Put On Trial By The Higher-ups

I missed Kimberly, who always treated me when I was injured. The male paramedic who treated me wore a sour face as he treated my burns with running water and antiseptic. In the end, he wrapped bandages around both my arms so roughly that I couldn't help but scream in pain.

I wanted to protest, but I also tried to understand the workload of a medic in a conflict I didn't know would end. He must have treated soldiers thousands of times and felt no need to entertain people who were in pain and on the verge of death.

Then there was the surveillance and the eagle eyes of the officers who seemed to be watching our every move.

I didn't know if the officer was so concerned or if he had other intentions for me. Judging by his piercing stare, the first option was definitely not the reason.

The officer was Sand Wittel. The one who was about to exterminate the three rebel ghost sisters, who had luckily escaped when the explosives and the amount of water flooded the tomb.

I felt a little guil