She looked directly at me and asked quietly, “Who was caring for them at home?”
“My mother and sister,” I answered shakily. “Why? What’s wrong?”
The doctor did not answer me immediately. Instead, she turned toward a nurse, and her voice became cold and hard.
“CALL THE POLICE!”
The nurse reacted at once.
She stepped between me and the exam room door with the calm authority of someone who had seen families collapse before, then instructed another nurse to photograph Noah’s blanket, the diaper bag, and Emily’s discharge paperwork still trembling in my hands.
My mother arrived at the hospital about ten minutes later with Ashley close behind her, and both of them began crying the moment they entered the hallway.
“Ethan,” Mom said, reaching for my arm, “please don’t turn this into something bigger than it is. The baby was fussy, and Emily wouldn’t cooperate. You know how dramatic she gets.”
