Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 1347

The slaps had not come from the Advanced Medical Institute examiner or any random bystander. Instead, they came from Thomas—Jared's own mentor.

"You little brat! As a medical practitioner, you don't even have the courage to face failure or take responsibility for your mistakes? Who accused you? Who wronged you? And now you want another chance? You won't let it go? Are you trying to drag Blumedale Hospital and my own reputation through the mud?"

No one had noticed when Thomas had moved to stand beside Jared, but there he was—face twisted in rage, veins bulging in his temples, his fury palpable.

For someone like Thomas, who valued his reputation above all else, this was an unforgivable disgrace. After all, his prized student's current behavior was pathetic. Moreover, various bigwigs were watching from the high platform.

If the student were garbage, then he, as the teacher, would inevitably be accused of poor teaching.

Jared stammered, his mind in a daze. "Dr. Bozzelli, I-I just…"

Thomas roared, "Shut up! I don't have a student as foolish as you! Y-You utter fool! Do you even realize how deeply you've disappointed me? Are you blind? You can't even tell the difference between adrenaline and growth factor?

"Andrew was right—you really are an idiot. That poor mouse's life ended just because of your incompetence. If this had been a real patient, didn't you just kill someone on the operating table?"

The harsh rebuke struck Jared like a hammer, draining the color from his face. Two hot streams of shameful tears rolled down his cheeks.

It was just as Andrew had said—he had indeed mixed up the injections.

Jared could not understand how Andrew, a mere bystander, could notice it so clearly. He was supposed to be the young star of Blumedale Hospital, yet he could not tell the difference. He began to doubt that he might actually be worse than Andrew.

After failure came resentment and deflection of blame. Pointing at Andrew, Jared shouted, "Fine, I admit I failed. I should get off the stage! But Andrew, you'll end up just like me! You won't pass this round either, damn it!"

Thomas' face darkened even further. He wished he could bury Jared six feet under right there and then. It was one thing for him to fail, but now he was turning on a fellow Blumedale Hospital contestant, a fellow representative of their hospital.

This was a betrayal, a stab in the back—pure, petty spite.