Chapter 3 - The Medical Truth
Dawn was breaking over the Boston skyline when Dr. Evans walked into the room.
He held a thick manila folder in his hands, and his face was completely grim.
Leo was finally sleeping peacefully in a hospital crib, an IV line rehydrating his fragile system.
Maya was curled up in the hospital bed, watching cartoons on a tablet with empty, exhausted eyes.
I stepped out into the hallway with Dr. Evans to hear the official results.
"Arthur, I don't even know how to say this to you," he whispered, opening the folder.
"Just give me the medical facts, David," I replied, bracing myself against the wall.
"Leo is suffering from severe malnutrition and clinical dehydration."
"If you had waited another forty-eight hours to bring him in, his kidneys would have started to fail."
I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of absolute nausea wash over me.
"And Maya?" I choked out, terrified of the answer.
"Maya has a hairline fracture on her left collarbone that is about three weeks old."
"She also has deep tissue contusions on her ribs, consistent with being kicked or struck with a blunt object."
My fists clenched so hard my fingernails bit into my palms.
Rebecca had not just been neglecting them.
She had been actively and violently assaulting an eight-year-old girl.
"I have already forwarded these records to the police and child protective services," Dr. Evans said gently.
"They have ironclad evidence for the physical abuse charges."
"Thank you, David," I whispered, shaking his hand.
I walked back into the room and sat on the edge of Maya's bed.
May you like
I promised myself that the distracted, absentee surgeon died tonight.
From this moment on, I was only a father, and I was going to war.
