Ellie stopped just inside the emergency department doors as though the doctor’s question had physically struck her.
I had been about to explain who had last been alone with Mason, but the answer was suddenly standing twenty feet away from me with one hand pressed over her mouth.
Thomas came in seconds behind her.
He saw me first.
Then the pediatrician.
Then the nurse beside Mason’s bassinet.
Whatever anger had carried him through those doors disappeared.
For the first time since my phone rang, my son looked frightened.
Not worried about Mason.
Frightened.
“Mom,” he said.
I had heard that voice at seven when he broke a neighbor’s window, at sixteen when he wrecked my station wagon, and at twenty-three when he called because he had lost his first real job.
Thomas had always sounded younger when he wanted me to save him from consequences.
This time, I stayed where I was.
The pediatrician repeated his question in a calm voice.
“Who was alone with Mason before Mrs. Russell took over his care?”
