Blurb：
After giving birth prematurely, Grace Reid is told her baby is stillborn. But she knows the truth—she heard her child cry. Now, locked in the nursery with the temperature dropping, Grace confronts her husband Felix Campbell, the head of obstetrics who failed to save their child. Why would a skilled doctor like Felix claim their healthy baby died? As the other parents beg for mercy, Grace realizes this is more than a tragedy—it's a conspiracy. With time running out, she must uncover the dark secrets behind her baby's disappearance before the nursery becomes a frozen tomb for the innocent newborns. A gripping thriller of maternal instinct, betrayal, and revenge.Content：
I, Grace Reid, gave birth twenty days before my due date.After being wheeled into the operating room for two hours, I delivered a lifeless fetus.
I didn't cry, didn't make a scene, didn't even glance at the tiny corpse.
Enduring the pain from my wounds, I calmly walked into the nursery, locked the door tight, and turned down the temperature.
In one more hour, the nursery would become too cold for any newborn to survive.
All the doctors and parents stood outside the nursery door, begging me to spare their children's lives.
They shouted with all their strength, saying I was a mother too and hoping I could understand their feelings.
But I just smiled. "I am indeed a mother, but the child I just delivered is dead."
An obstetrician cried at the door, pleading with me, "We may be responsible for not saving your child. But these newborns are innocent.
Please don't become extreme because you lost your baby. You're still so young—you can have other children."
I gritted my teeth and roared at her, "But my child isn't dead at all!
She's still alive. I'm giving you one hour to bring her to me."
Because I wasn't sure if my child would still be alive after one hour.
*****
The nursery door remained tightly shut, while my husband Felix Campbell, wearing his white coat, stood outside looking frantic.
He suddenly slapped himself across the face.
Then Felix shouted to me, "Grace, it's my fault—I failed to save our child."
He continued, "I know losing the baby devastates you. This child wasn't meant to be with us. We can have another. But if something happens to you, I truly won't be able to live."
Felix looked desperate, almost ready to cry.
But I kept staring at him with cold, indifferent eyes.
Felix and I had been married for three years. He'd taken excellent care of me, considering every detail thoughtfully.
As the head of obstetrics, after learning I was pregnant, he monitored every aspect of my health closely.
Yet today, this same Felix who had successfully treated patients with amniotic fluid embolism told me he couldn't save our child.
I had delivered a stillborn.
But throughout my pregnancy, all my check-ups showed the baby was perfectly healthy. Three weeks ago, the fetus was already fully developed.
Forget being born twenty days early—even if I had delivered three weeks ago, the baby would have survived completely.
I absolutely refused to believe my child was dead.
Especially since when I was barely conscious, I clearly heard that child crying.
I looked at Felix suspiciously, then said with barely controlled trembling in my voice, "With your abilities, why couldn't you save even a premature baby?"
"Grace, I'm incompetent." Felix said through tears. "Premature birth causes too much damage to infants. I really did everything I could."
Then a man said, "Grace, losing a baby due to premature birth is unavoidable sometimes.
You must try to accept this. You're still young. You'll definitely have other children."
The other medical staff standing beside Felix also anxiously tried to persuade me.
The parents of those newborns pleaded with red-rimmed eyes. One woman said, "Grace, we feel terrible for you and your child too.
But our babies are innocent. You know what it feels like to be a mother. Please spare our children.
If you have doubts about your baby's death, you should question your husband and these medical staff. This really has nothing to do with our children."
As they continued pleading, the temperature in the nursery began dropping slowly.
Some people started trying to cut power to the nursery, hoping to stop the temperature from falling further.
But I had already modified this department's electrical system. The entire room's cooling system was controlled only by the device in my hands.
With just a light touch of the controls, the room temperature would plummet suddenly, and these children would freeze to death.
Seeing that cutting the power didn't work, they all stared at me with terrified eyes.
One newborn's mother directly pleaded, "Grace, I'm a lawyer. I can represent your child's case for free and get you justice.
Please give me back my baby."
I told her, "My child doesn't need justice—she just needs to come back to me."
My breathing became rapid as I shouted outside, "My child isn't dead at all!
I clearly remember hearing her cry. If I delivered a stillborn, how could she have cried?"
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