“We need to do an ultrasound immediately,” he said.
My stomach dropped as I asked, “Is he going to be okay.”
“We need to check something first,” he replied, not offering false reassurance.
During the ultrasound, I stood beside Ethan, holding his tiny hand while watching the gray images on the screen that made no sense to me until the technician paused and the doctor leaned closer.
“There’s internal bleeding,” he said carefully.
The words echoed in my mind as I struggled to understand them.
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“It appears someone applied significant pressure to his abdomen,” he explained.
I felt the room spin as I whispered, “Are you saying someone hurt him.”
He did not answer directly, but his silence confirmed everything.
Ethan was taken for treatment, and a social worker named Melissa began asking me questions about who had been caring for him, whether there had been any accidents, and if anyone else had been around him recently.
