Lily cast her eyes down at the floor, forcing the words out. “It was Tuesday. I didn’t want to eat my broccoli, and Mom got mad. She sent me to my room. Then she came up yelling. She grabbed my arm and shoved me. My back hit the metal handle of the closet door. It hurt so bad.”
“No. She went to the pharmacy. She said I fell while playing. She put cream and bandages on it… wrapped it really tight. She said I couldn’t take it off until you got back so you wouldn’t see anything ugly.”
Julian’s chest tightened in horror, and his hands shook as he reached for her shirt. “Can I look at it, Lily?”
Lily nodded, and she turned around, lifting her shirt. Julian froze. The bandages were yellowed and caked with grime. The skin beneath was a sickly patchwork of purple and black bruises. A rancid, sour smell of infection filled the air.
“When was the last time she changed it?”
“Wednesday… I think. She told me not to take it off until you came home.”
Julian’s stomach churned, and bile rose in his throat. This wasn’t an accident. This was a cover-up. “We’re going to the hospital, Lily. Right now.”
Her eyes widened in panic. “Am I going to get in trouble?”
“No, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Asking for help is never wrong,” Julian reassured her, holding her close. “I’ve got you.”
“On Thursday… I felt burning hot. Mom said it was normal.”
Fever. Infection. Julian’s heart sank.
At the ER, they were seen immediately. Dr. Marcus Hale, the attending pediatrician, entered with a calm expression. “Alright, Lily, let’s take this off gently.”
As he carefully unwound the gauze, the doctor’s expression shifted from neutral to concerned. When the last layer came off, the injury was revealed: a massive, dark bruise surrounded by angry, red, swollen skin.
“There are clear signs of sepsis,” Dr. Hale stated firmly. “She needs IV antibiotics and imaging to rule out internal injuries. We’re admitting her right away.”
Julian’s throat tightened, a cold knot settling in. “Is it life-threatening?”
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