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.”
I froze. “You saw it yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t take him to the hospital?”
“We thought it was nothing,” she said quickly. “Just a mark forming…”
But something in her voice felt off.
Then she added quietly, “It wasn’t this dark before.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“If it got worse today…” I said slowly, a terrible thought forming, “who was alone with him before I arrived?”
Silence.
Then Emily whispered, “The babysitter.”
My heart skipped.
“You hired someone?”
Michael came back on the line. “Just part-time. A few hours in the morning so Emily can rest.”
“When did this start?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“And today?” I asked. “Was she with him?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
My stomach twisted. “For how long?”
“About an hour.”
“Did you notice anything strange?”
“No. She seemed fine. Professional. Great references.”
“What’s her name?”
“Jessica.”
At that moment, the door opened and Dr. Harris stepped in.
“He’s stable now,” he said gently. “But we found something else.”
My chest tightened. “What?”
He handed me a printout.
“Look here.”
I stared at the scan.
At first, I didn’t see it.
Then it clicked.
Small oval marks around the bruise.
Not just one.
Several.
“They look like…” I whispered.