He nodded. “In babies this young, injuries like this are very unusual without trauma.”
My hands trembled. “Doctor… my son and his wife adore him. They would never—”
“I understand,” he said calmly. “But we have to look at every possibility.”
Two hours later, Oliver was stable. The doctor said we had caught the bleeding in time.
But the bruise…
I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I sat alone in the waiting room when my phone rang.
It was my son, Michael.
“Mom,” he said anxiously, “we’re home. Where are you? Emily’s worried—Oliver’s gone.”
My throat tightened. “Michael… we’re at the hospital.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Oliver’s hurt.”
Panic hit his voice instantly. “Hurt? What do you mean?”
“The doctor says someone squeezed him hard enough to cause internal bleeding.”
A long, heavy silence followed.
Then Michael said something that made my heart sink.
“That’s impossible.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “But someone did.”
Another silence.
Then I heard Emily in the background. “What’s happening?”
Michael whispered to her.
A second later, she grabbed the phone.
“A bruise?” she asked. “That can’t be.”
“Why are you so sure?” I asked.
Her answer came too quickly. “Because… he already had that bruise yesterday.”