When our son broke his leg, my ex-husband swore it was just a freak accident. I wanted to believe him. But hours later, a charge nurse slipped a note into my hand that said, “He’s lying.
Check the camera at 3 a.m.” When I slipped into the security room later, I uncovered a horrifying lie.
I was sitting at my desk, finishing a report, when my ex-husband’s name flashed on my phone screen. Our son was currently at his house, so I answered immediately.
“Hey, so… don’t freak out,” he started.
My heart rate doubled instantly. “What happened, Jasper?”
“Howard broke his leg.
He fell off his scooter. Freak accident. I was right there with him.
I saw the whole thing.”
Howard is ten. He’s energetic and brave, but he’s still my baby.
“Is he okay?
Where are you?”
“He’s fine. Just shaken up,” Jasper said. “We’re at the ER.”
I grabbed my purse, told my boss it was an emergency, and drove to the hospital like a woman possessed.
***
Howard looked so small in that big hospital bed. A bright blue cast was already wrapped from his ankle to his knee.
“Hey, buddy.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
His eyes were red-rimmed.
“For what? You didn’t do it on purpose.”
“For falling.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“Were you doing tricks again?” I asked gently. I wasn’t even mad; I just wanted to know what happened.
Howard loves trying to jump the curb, even though I’ve told him a thousand times to wait until he’s older.
“I told you,” Jasper interrupted. “He just lost his balance. No tricks.
Just a weird slip on the driveway.”
Howard shifted uncomfortably in the bed. He looked at his dad, then at his cast, then at the floor.
Something was off.
I could feel it in my gut, but I didn’t want to start a fight in front of my injured son.
“Well, the important thing is that you’re patched up now,” I said, though my mind was racing.
I stayed by the bed, stroking Howard’s hair while he drifted in and out of sleep. Jasper sat in the corner, staring at his phone.
That evening, a woman in navy scrubs walked in.
Her badge read “Charge Nurse.” She was efficient and quiet, checking Howard’s vitals and scribbling on a chart.
“Honey, you should go home,” Jasper said suddenly. “You have work in the morning. I’ll stay the night.”
The nurse glanced at me, then at Jasper, and finally at Howard.
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