The nurse returned with my son after the examination and cleaning.
His skin was clean now. The dark pigment was gone from his cheeks and fingers. A small patch near his ankle was still being checked, but his breathing was steady, and the nurse told us there was no immediate sign of serious injury.
I began crying again when she placed him against my chest.
My husband stood beside the bed with one hand resting gently on my shoulder.
My mother watched from the chair.
Then the charge nurse came back.
She carried a sealed bag containing the gauze, the blanket and the material removed from my son’s skin.
“We’re preserving what was found,” she said. “The hospital will complete its report.”
My husband nodded.
My mother looked at the sealed bag.
“What was it?” she asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
That answer changed something in the room.
