“There’s internal bleeding,” he said carefully.
The words echoed in my mind as I struggled to understand them.
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“It appears someone applied significant pressure to his abdomen,” he explained.
I felt the room spin as I whispered, “Are you saying someone hurt him.”
He did not answer directly, but his silence confirmed everything.
Ethan was taken for treatment, and a social worker named Melissa began asking me questions about who had been caring for him, whether there had been any accidents, and if anyone else had been around him recently.
I answered honestly, explaining that only Adrian and Caroline usually cared for him, though both had been exhausted lately.
A few hours later, Ethan was stabilized, and I finally received a call from Adrian.
“Mom, where are you,” he asked, panic already in his voice.
“I’m at the hospital,” I said slowly. “Ethan was hurt.”
“What do you mean hurt,” he demanded.
“There’s a bruise on his stomach, and the doctor says someone squeezed him hard enough to cause internal bleeding,” I explained.
“That’s impossible,” he said immediately.
“I know, but someone did,” I replied.
Then Caroline took the phone, her voice shaking as she said something that changed everything.
