The sudden power outage plunged the Pediatric ICU into darkness. Working the night shift, I felt no urgency, no impulse to cry for help. In my previous life, the moment the lights died, I’d immediately activated every backup power source, then painstakingly checked each child, ensuring their safety. Exhausted after my solo marathon, I’d finally collapsed onto a chair and drifted into a heavy sleep. I don’t know when, but my colleagues had suddenly swarmed in from outside, roughly yanking me awake. “Dr. Davies, how could you, a medical professional, lay a hand on these children?” “You’re a monster! You froze them to death! May you be struck by lightning!” It was then I realized: every single child was dead, without exception. The police took me away, stating I was the only adult in the room and that my fingerprints were found on the thermostat. My son, Eason, produced a video to aid their investigation. “She often complained about the patients, wishing they’d die sooner.” The furious parents cornered me in a back alley, torturing me for ten grueling hours until I finally succumbed. Even as I died, I couldn’t grasp it. The environment was temperature-controlled; how could the children have frozen to death? And why would my own son, my flesh and blood, play a fake video to frame me? A jolt, like an electric shock, ripped through me. I was awake, back on the very day of the power outage. 1 The blast of cold air from the air conditioner hit me, and I was instantly, sharply aware. “Mom, the power’s out! What do we do? I don’t know how to fix this!” Eason’s anxious voice pierced my ears. Calmly, I switched on my phone’s flashlight. He had just graduated from medical school and was interning at my hospital. Last time the power went out, he’d gone to report it to the hospital administration, leaving me to connect the backup power. But he never returned until it was too late. “Mom!” He saw me rooted to the spot and stomped his foot in frustration. “Why are you still sitting there? If these kids all die, we’re both finished!” He seemed to understand the gravity of the situation this time. So why, in my previous life, had he vanished completely? A few of the younger infants, sensitive to the temperature shift, began to cry loudly. The children on ventilators started to pale, their lips turning a faint purple. My heart ached, but I knew they wouldn’t be in immediate danger. On the surface, I remained indifferent. Eason, however, grew more agitated. He yelled at me, “You’re the Head of Pediatrics! How can you be so cold-blooded?” In the past, I would have rushed to check on the children and snapped back at him. But after experiencing my previous life, my entire outlook had shifted. As I calmed, I noticed that beneath his panicked facade, a flicker of cunning, almost triumph, danced in his eyes. Could this whole thing really be linked to him? I shrugged, responding without haste. “What am I supposed to do? There are over a hundred children here. Am I supposed to wheel each incubator out by myself?” My retort left Eason speechless, his face souring. His tone grew sharper, laced with impatience. “You’re the Head of Pediatrics! If you don’t save them, who will? We can’t just watch them die here!” I sighed dramatically, gesturing towards the crying children, raising an eyebrow at him. “It would take ages to wheel out this many children. Perhaps before I could save even a few, the rest would already be gone.” I paused, letting the implication hang in the air. “So, tell me, who should I save first? And who last? Rather than choose, maybe it’s better if they all die, and then I’ll just let the parents beat me to death.” Before he could react, I pulled him down beside me, offering a serene smile. “To die here with my son… it wouldn’t be a bad way to go, for a mother.” Eason sprang to his feet, violently shaking off my hand. “You’re insane! You want to drag me down with you? You don’t deserve to be my mother!” With that, he bolted, his legs pumping as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. I watched him throw open the door and flee, a chill spreading through my entire body. Twenty years I’d showered him with love, and he abandoned me, leaving me to die, telling me I didn’t deserve to be his mother. More and more children began to cry, their wails swelling into a monstrous wave that threatened to drown the ICU. Yet, I simply stared at the closed door, a faint, detached smile playing on my lips. 2 The power outage lasted an incredibly long time, so long I almost thought the hospital had forgotten about us. Around six or seven in the morning, the parents, eager for visiting hours, began to gather outside. Through the viewing window, they saw the pitch-black interior and started shouting, their panic rising. “What’s going on? Every time we come, it’s brightly lit. Why is it so dark today? Is the power out?” “Don’t scare me! What about the children if the power’s out? I went through IVF for this child; if anything happens to him, I’ll die of a broken heart!” “Maybe we should just break the door down! We can push the children out, incubators and all. There’s power outside; maybe they’ll survive if we get them out!” The parents were beside themselves with worry. At the suggestion, they all agreed. Just as they were about to ram the door, I opened it from the inside. “Dr. Davies, you’re here! Thank goodness! With you inside, we have nothing to fear.” “That’s right, I told you all not to be impulsive. Dr. Davies is so responsible; I trust her with my child.” “Dr. Davies, can we go in and see our children now? It’s been a week, I wonder how he’s doing…” Several parents’ eyes welled up. Almost every child admitted here was battling for their life. The weekly visiting day was their only beacon of hope. I was about to speak when someone pushed through the crowd, pointing a finger at me, accusingly. “Even though you’re my mother, I won’t cover for you today! How could such a heartless doctor just watch these children freeze to death during a power outage?” His voice cracked with feigned outrage. “You even said you wanted to wait until they all died and then take me with you! You not only failed me, but you’ve disgraced your white coat!” Eason glared at me like I was his mortal enemy, determined to see me destroyed. He was my son; his direct accusation instantly ignited the parents’ fury. Some mothers, unable to bear the crushing blow, simply crumpled to the floor, their wails tearing through the air. The fathers clenched their fists, barely restraining themselves, their eyes burning with a desire to tear me apart then and there. Some, quicker than others, had already bypassed me and were pounding on the ICU door, desperate to rush in and save their children. But it was a steel, hermetic door. No one there could open it but me. Just then, I saw a figure, discreetly slipping into the crowd. It was my husband, Richard. Ah, he finally showed up. In my previous life, if I hadn’t drunk the red date and goji berry tea he prepared, I wouldn’t have slept so deeply, nor would the children have died so mysteriously. All the things I couldn’t understand before were suddenly starting to make sense. Since they wouldn’t let me off the hook, I might as well escalate things. I crossed my arms, my tone utterly nonchalant. “There are over a hundred children in the ICU. Tell me, who should I have saved first? And who last?” I paused, a slight smirk playing on my lips. “I’m not some mythological hero with three heads and six arms, capable of wheeling all your children out at once.” My gaze swept over their anxious faces. “Since I can’t move them all, the ones left behind would surely die. Who among you would willingly leave their child behind?” This was, in essence, what I wanted to say in my last life. Back then, I had poured every ounce of my energy into connecting all the backup power sources. Each battery weighed dozens of pounds, and by the time I was done, I was utterly exhausted, collapsing onto a rest chair. But seeing the children breathing evenly, sleeping soundly, I had felt a profound sense of satisfaction, believing it had all been worth it. Yet, when I woke up, everyone was screaming that I had frozen the children to death. Even these parents, who had always trusted me implicitly, refused to listen to my explanations. They dragged me into a dark alleyway, beating and verbally abusing me for ten agonizing hours, watching me gasp my last breath. As a doctor, I never expected their gratitude. But if they wouldn’t believe me, then I would simply give up, let it all burn. 3 As expected, my words left the parents in turmoil. Their faces flushed crimson, they advanced on me step by step, their collective rage mirroring the intensity with which they’d beaten me to death in my past life. Richard sensed the moment was ripe. He strode forward two paces, then, smack, landed a stinging slap across my face. “Sarah Davies! You’re the Head of Pediatrics, a highly decorated physician! How could you do something like this?” He leaned closer, his voice dripping with feigned disgust. “Our son nobly exposed the truth, and you still try to squirm your way out of it? Aren’t you afraid the children will haunt your dreams, transformed into vengeful spirits?” His voice rose, carrying to the agitated crowd. “No parent wants their child harmed, but if you had at least saved a few, it would show you tried! But look at you now, so utterly cold and indifferent! Has your conscience been eaten by dogs?” Their father-son gaze was eerily identical. I clutched my stinging cheek, remaining silent, calmly waiting to see what other tricks they had up their sleeves. Richard finished his speech and subtly nodded at Eason, signaling him to play the video on his phone. The screen flickered to life, showing me, a spitting image of a deranged banshee, ranting, spewing venom, and cursing. “So many sick children every day! My back is killing me, I’m exhausted!” “These premature and critically ill children don’t deserve to live! They’re just wasting medical resources! They should be humanely euthanized!” “They just cry and cry, it’s so annoying! I’ll kill them all eventually!” In my previous life, after Eason had released this video on social media, the parents had been consumed by a murderous rage. They’d used sticks, iron rods, and stones, torturing me for ten agonizing hours, watching me draw my last breath! The memory made me tremble uncontrollably. I lifted my gaze to the father and son. Richard’s barely suppressed glee was evident in his eyes, though his face still maintained a facade of righteous indignation. “Sarah Davies, in our twenty-five years of marriage, I never realized you were such a cold-hearted person!” He scoffed, looking around at the parents. “No other part of the hospital lost power, only your Pediatric ICU went dark for hours. If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?” Eason chimed in, his voice dripping with venom. “I’m ashamed to have you as a mother! Over a hundred lives! You deserve to be torn to shreds!” Their inflammatory words whipped the parents into a frenzy. Their eyes burned red, like famished wolves ready to devour me. “Bitch! And here I thought you were my child’s savior! Are you even human? How could you do this to such tiny children?” “You’re a devil in scrubs! I was forty when I had this child; you’ve ruined our entire family!” “They said you were more responsible than any doctor in the capital city! We traveled hundreds of miles to bring him here, and you killed my child! I’ll fight you to the death!” The parents who had been pounding on the door also turned, lunging at me with savage intent. Just then, a sharp command cut through the chaos. “Everyone, stop!”
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