🚨 CHILLING MOMENT IN THE LUCY LETBY CASE: A mother, still recovering from C-section, rushes to the neonatal unit at 9 PM with breast milk for her premature twin boys.

She hears a scream unlike anything before.

She walks in — one baby is in distress, blood around his mouth. The nurse beside him stays calm.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “The feeding tube irritated his throat. A doctor is coming. You should rest.”

The mother leaves. By midnight, her baby is gone.

24 hours later, his twin collapses — doctors save him, but severe issues remain years later.

That same nurse bathed the baby, dressed him gently, made a memory box with handprints and photos. She even showed the parents a sweet picture of the surviving twin “hugging” his brother’s teddy.

But newborns can’t roll over. The photo was staged.

And then… she searched the family’s names on Facebook — including on Christmas Day, months later.

Years pass. Police find notes in her home: “I AM EVIL I DID THIS.” Hidden in her 2016 diary? Hospital papers she shouldn’t have had… and words doctors had warned about for 18 months. No one listened.

This is the heartbreaking story of twins targeted by Lucy Letby. How did the signs go unnoticed so long?

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The trial of former neonatal nurse Lucy Letby has brought forward some of the most emotional testimony in British legal history, including a mother’s recollection of rushing to her premature twin sons’ side after hearing an “horrendous” cry, only to find one in distress with blood around his mouth — and the nurse in attendance telling her not to worry.

The incident, detailed during Letby’s 2022-2023 trial at Manchester Crown Court, centered on a set of identical twin boys born prematurely in late July 2015 at the Countess of Chester Hospital’s neonatal unit. Letby, then 25, was on duty and assigned to care for the infants. Prosecutors alleged she injected air into the bloodstream of Baby E, causing a fatal hemorrhage, while the mother was briefly away from the unit.

The mother testified that she arrived around 9 p.m. with expressed breast milk, still recovering from a C-section. As she approached, she heard her son screaming in a way she described as unlike anything she had ever heard from a baby. Entering the room, she saw blood coming from his mouth and felt immediate panic, sensing something was “very wrong.”

Letby, standing near the incubator, remained calm. She explained the blood was likely due to irritation from the nasogastric feeding tube and assured the mother a doctor was on the way, suggesting she rest. The mother, trusting the professional, left the unit. By midnight, Baby E had deteriorated rapidly and died despite resuscitation efforts. Medical experts later testified the bleeding was consistent with air injection causing a major vessel rupture.

Just 24 hours later, the surviving twin, Baby F, collapsed suddenly. Doctors stabilized him, but he suffered long-term effects, including severe developmental delays requiring ongoing medical support. Prosecutors claimed Letby had added insulin to his intravenous feed the next day, leading to dangerously low blood sugar levels — a method she allegedly used in other cases.

Following Baby E’s death, Letby performed post-mortem care, bathing and dressing the infant in a small wool gown. She created a memory box containing handprints, footprints, and photographs for the grieving parents — standard compassionate practice on the unit. One photo she showed depicted the surviving twin “hugging” his deceased brother’s teddy bear, which the family cherished as a symbol of connection. However, evidence later revealed newborns lack the motor skills to roll over or position themselves that way, leading prosecutors to argue the image was staged.

Digital records recovered from Letby’s phone showed she searched for the twins’ parents’ names on Facebook multiple times. Searches began shortly after the shift where Baby E died and continued, including one on Christmas Day — five months later. Letby testified she was simply checking on the surviving child’s welfare, a claim the prosecution challenged as obsessive behavior.

The case gained further gravity with items found during police searches of Letby’s home after her 2018 arrest. Among them were handwritten notes, including one reading “I AM EVIL I DID THIS,” discovered in a shopping bag. Another note in her 2016 diary contained phrases like “I killed them on purpose because I’m not good enough” and references to hospital events. Prosecutors presented these as confessions; the defense argued they reflected extreme stress and were written during counseling sessions as a therapeutic exercise to process feelings.

Letby denied all wrongdoing, attributing collapses to unit issues like understaffing or natural causes. She was convicted in August 2023 of murdering seven babies and attempting to murder seven others between June 2015 and June 2016, receiving a whole-life prison sentence — only the fourth woman in U.K. history to do so. A retrial in 2024 addressed one unresolved attempted-murder charge.

The twins’ case exemplified patterns prosecutors highlighted: Letby’s presence during unexplained deteriorations, often involving air injection, insulin poisoning, or physical interference. Colleagues had raised concerns about rising deaths and collapses coinciding with her shifts as early as 2015, but hospital management delayed action, fearing reputational damage.

Victim impact statements from parents, read after the verdict, expressed profound betrayal. The twins’ mother spoke of guilt for leaving her son with Letby, believing the nurse’s reassurances. “We trusted you with the most precious things in our lives,” one family statement read. Others described the staged photo and Facebook searches as adding layers of violation.

The Thirlwall Inquiry, launched in 2024, continues examining how hospital leadership overlooked warnings from doctors who flagged statistical anomalies and Letby’s involvement. Recommendations focus on whistleblower protections and neonatal safety protocols.

Seven years on, the surviving twin’s ongoing challenges serve as a lasting reminder of the impact. For the families, the calm “don’t worry” response that night remains one of the most haunting elements — a moment of misplaced trust in a place meant for healing.