“Finger pressure marks,” he confirmed. “But too small to belong to an adult.”

I struggled to process it. “Too small… like a child’s?”

He nodded slowly.

My stomach dropped.

“A child did this?”

“It appears that way.”

When Michael and Emily arrived, they looked terrified.

Emily rushed to the nursery window. “Oh my God… Oliver…”

Michael turned to me. “What happened?”

I showed them the scan.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he said.

“The babysitter was alone with him,” I replied.

“Are you sure she was alone?” I asked.

Emily hesitated.

Then quietly said, “She brought her daughter once.”

My heart sank. “A child?”

“Yes… maybe four or five. I couldn’t find anyone else that day.”

The pieces started coming together.

“Was the girl near Oliver?”

Emily nodded slowly. “She loves babies. She kept asking to hold him.”

“Did she ever?”

“No. We always said no.”

A terrible thought formed.

“Except maybe when no one was watching.”

The room went silent.

A nurse knocked. “Someone’s asking about the baby.”

“Who?” Michael asked.

“The babysitter… Jessica.”

My stomach turned.

“And… she brought a little girl with her.”

Silence.

Then the door opened.

Jessica stepped in, pale and shaken.

Beside her stood a small girl with curly hair, eyes wide with fear.

The moment she saw the baby through the glass, she burst into tears.

“I’m sorry!” she cried.

The room froze.

Jessica turned to her, confused. “Ava, what are you talking about?”

The little girl clung to her mother, sobbing.

“I just wanted to hug him,” she cried. “He wouldn’t stop crying… so I held him really tight…”

Jessica’s face went white.

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him!”

Silence filled the room.

Michael leaned against the wall. Emily covered her mouth.

And I felt the truth settle in my chest.

No one had meant to hurt him.

He had just been held too tightly… by a child who didn’t understand how fragile a baby is.

Dr. Harris stepped closer and knelt in front of the girl. “Were you trying to help him?”

She nodded through tears. “I just wanted him to stop crying…”

“Is the baby going to die?” she asked.

Emily shook her head gently. “No, sweetheart. He’s going to be okay.”

The girl cried harder. “I’m sorry…”

That night felt endless.

We stayed by Oliver’s bedside, watching every movement, every sound. Hours passed slowly.

Finally, Dr. Harris returned.

“The bleeding has stopped,” he said.

Relief filled the room.

“He’s going to recover.”