Moments later, Lena saw him reviewing X-rays under harsh light. His jaw tightened. He made a phone call, speaking quietly but urgently.
“I need additional support here,” he said. “Yes… and notify law enforcement.”
The word law enforcement made Lena’s knees weak.
Twenty minutes later, two officers entered the waiting room.
Detective Rachel Monroe spoke gently but firmly. “We need to ask you a few questions, Ms. Whitaker.”
“Why are the police here?” Lena demanded. “What’s wrong with my daughter?”
“We’re still determining that,” the detective said. “But the imaging shows something inside Mila’s body that shouldn’t be there.”
The room tilted.
“Inside her?” Lena whispered. “Like… she swallowed something?”
“This isn’t typical,” Monroe said carefully. “The location raises concerns.”
Lena’s phone finally rang.
Evan.
“What happened?” he asked, panicked.
“The police are here,” Lena said, her voice shaking. “They think something happened to Mila.”
Before Evan could respond, Detective Monroe took the phone.
“Mr. Carter,” she said firmly, “officers are on their way to speak with you. Please remain where you are.”
After the call ended, Lena broke.
“You think he did this,” she said. “You think I did this.”
“We’re investigating everyone,” Monroe replied. “That includes you.”
The next twelve hours blurred together—interviews, waiting rooms, whispered conversations behind closed doors.
Then everything changed.
A pediatric specialist, Dr. Elaine Porter, requested a second review. She asked strange questions.
“Does Mila ever eat things that aren’t food?”
Lena frowned. “What?”
“Paper. Chalk. Erasers. Small objects.”
A memory flickered.
The pink eraser. Mila chewing it like gum months ago.
“I thought it was just a phase,” Lena whispered.
Dr. Porter listened carefully. So did Evan, who admitted he’d once caught Mila chewing on a crayon.
