Chapter 2 - DR. STERLING DOESN’T GUESSTwo nurses came in.
Dr. Sterling closed the door.
He did not accuse anyone of poisoning Owen.
That mattered.
He asked:
“Rebecca, is this the bottle you received from the pharmacy?”
“I think so.”
“Think?”
“The label is right. I picked it up.”
“Did you mark the liquid level?”
“No.”
“Who has been administering doses?”
“Me. Daniel. Linda a few times.”
Daniel interrupted:
“Mostly me.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
“I mean mornings.”
“You told me your mother gave yesterday afternoon’s.”
Linda said:
“I gave him medicine.”
Dr. Sterling asked:
“What medicine?”
She hesitated.
“His fever medicine.”
“Acetaminophen?”
“Yes.”
“And the antibiotic?”
Linda looked at Daniel.
Tiny movement.
Still movement.
Dr. Sterling noticed.
“So you did not give cefdinir?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What did you give?”
“This is ridiculous.”
Dr. Sterling turned to the nurse.
“I want Owen sent to the children’s hospital for evaluation. We’ll call ahead.”
My heart lurched.
“Hospital?”
“He has a persistent high fever after a culture-confirmed bacterial infection and we cannot establish that he received the prescribed antibiotic. I want labs, repeat urine testing, hydration assessment, and treatment there.”
Daniel said:
“You’re overreacting.”
Dr. Sterling looked at him.
“No.”
One word.
Then:
“I’m responding to the child in front of me.”
Molly began crying.
I went toward her.
Dr. Sterling gently stopped me.
“Rebecca, before anyone asks Molly more questions, I would prefer we let a trained child specialist determine what she actually observed.”
I understood immediately.
I was a mother.
I was also about to become the world’s worst interrogator.
“What do I say to her?”
“Tell her she did the right thing bringing the bottle.”
So I did.
Nothing else.
Not:
What did Grandma do?
Not:
Was Daddy helping?
Not:
What did she give Owen?
I wanted all three.
Instead:
“You did the right thing bringing this.”
Molly wiped her face.
“I didn’t steal it.”
“I know.”
“I hid it.”
“I know.”
Then she asked the question that nearly broke me.
“Is Owen sick because I didn’t tell sooner?”
“No.”
That answer I gave without hesitation.
“No, honey.”
Dr. Sterling nodded.
“Correct.”
Then to all of us:
May you like
“No one is blaming a seven-year-old for adult medication decisions.”
Daniel looked away.
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