The hospital intake form was clipped to a chart by 9:34 a.m.
A nurse wrote “possible neglect” in a box Peter wished did not exist.
Child Protective Services was called.
A detective was notified.
A doctor came out after the X-rays with the kind of controlled anger that professionals use when the evidence is worse than the story.
“Drew has a spiral fracture of the tibia,” he said.
Peter stared at him.
“Broken?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
The doctor’s mouth tightened.
“It appears to be at least two weeks old.”
The hallway seemed to tilt.
“Two weeks?”
“Yes. And untreated.”
Peter put one hand against the wall.
For a moment, he thought he might be sick.
The doctor continued because someone had to.
“Lily is significantly underweight and dehydrated. We’re documenting everything. Photographs, lab work, the X-ray report, intake notes. CPS is already on the way.”
