The Baby's Secret Only I Can Hear

1: 1

On my mother's seventh day working as a cleaner in the maternity ward, the patient in bed 21 asked her to watch the baby for a little while.

In my past life, my mother felt sorry for her and watched him for half an hour.

But the baby vanished, and when they found him he was lying in a trash bin, his whole body purple.

The patient said my mother had killed her child, and demanded she pay with her life.

Before the truth was ever uncovered, the online mob hounded my mother until her heart gave out and she died.

The hospital fired me, and the patient decided the mother's debt should be paid by the daughter, and hounded me until I jumped from a building.

When I opened my eyes again, the moment I saw the patient in bed 21,

every hair on my body stood on end.

1.

"Dr. Fox, could you move me to the room by the stairs?"

"I'm due any day now, and I haven't been sleeping well. It's quieter over there."

Grace Bishop cradled her swollen belly, her eyes full of pleading.

The sound of her voice jolted me awake.

Seeing that face that terrified me, I gripped the chart in my hand without thinking.

Grace Bishop, due within the next few days, admitted two days ago.

She'd come to me personally to check in, and I'd put her in bed 21.

At first, I thought she was just one of countless ordinary patients.

I never imagined she would ruin my entire life.

A knock came at the door.

Grace perked up, listening.

Looking at the figure outside the door, I knew it was my mother bringing me lunch.

"Dr. Fox, someone's here for you. Let me get the door."

"No need. One patient at a time. Sit down."

In my past life, Grace met my mother on this very day.

Throughout her stay, she always found ways to strike up conversation with my mother.

And whenever my mother finished cleaning the ward, she would stop by to check on her, ask how she was doing.

That was exactly what laid the groundwork for the string of disasters that followed.

I took out my phone and texted my mother, telling her to wait for me at the door of the break room.

Grace kept twisting her head toward the door, the urge to open it plain in her eyes.

"Dr. Fox, I really don't mind. Maybe some patient needs you urgently. Why don't I open it?"

Her left arm cradled her belly while her right hand reached for the handle.

At that moment, my mother picked up the lunch container and walked away.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Grace's face.

I pointed at her chart and went over the things she needed to watch for before delivery.

She listened with only half her attention.

"Grace, you're about to give birth. Where's your family?"

She paused. "My mother-in-law had something to take care of and went home."

She was lying. Her mother-in-law had come only once, the day she was admitted.

These past few days she'd been at the hospital alone.

I clicked through the admission records with the mouse.

"Where's your husband's information? Why isn't it here?"

She pressed her lips together and said nothing.

I called the doctor who'd been on duty that day.

Hanging up, I looked at her. "Grace, we need to fill in your husband's information."

"He's out of town." She said it quietly.

"How long until he's back?"

Thinking of what had happened in my past life, I raised my voice without meaning to.

"Soon." There was a note of injury in her voice.

"That can't wait. I need to register his contact number now."

She lifted her eyes to me. Under all that hurt, there was a faint, hard-to-catch flash of anger.

The moment she gave the number, I dialed it fast.

"Is this Grace Bishop's family? She's about to give birth. You need to come to the hospital—"

Before I could finish, the call was cut off.

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

"Dr. Fox, I—I only wanted to change rooms."

I kept typing, logging it into her chart.

"You can change rooms, but your family needs to come to the hospital this morning."

"You're about to deliver. Someone has to be with you twenty-four hours a day."

"Whether it's your husband or your mother-in-law, I need to see someone here by noon."

She hesitated for a moment, then said slowly, "Fine!"

"So can I change rooms now?"

Looking at that pitiful expression of hers,

I made myself stay calm. "Have your family come first, and I'll arrange the room for you."

She let out a quiet, secret breath and reminded me,

"The one at the corner by the stairs is quieter. That's the one I want."

I glanced at the approved repair request sitting on the corner of the desk.

I chased up the worker in charge of maintenance.

Once I had a clear answer,

I forced out a smile. "All right. I'll get it done for you."