A few minutes later, I went inside to use the bathroom. As I closed the door, I heard soft footsteps behind me. Ava slipped inside quietly and locked the door. Her hands were trembling.
“Grandma,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “Actually…”
She hesitated, then rushed the words out. “Mommy and Daddy said I’m not allowed to tell anyone.”
My heart sank. I knelt in front of her immediately. “Tell me what, sweetheart.”
She lifted her dress just enough to show a large yellowish bruise along her side, partly hidden by the fabric. “I fell,” she said quickly. Then she shook her head. “No… Daddy said to say that.”
I felt dizzy. “Does it hurt all the time?”
She nodded. “And I feel sick. Mommy said swimming would make it worse, so I have to stay sitting.”
The laughter outside suddenly felt distant and wrong. A bruise like that wasn’t from a simple fall, and a four-year-old doesn’t learn to keep secrets on her own.
I hugged her carefully, avoiding the bruised area. In that moment, I knew this was not just a stomachache. And I was not going to look away.
