— He’s stable for now, but the hypothermia was extreme. A park guard found him just in time.
Arthur nodded, mechanically following her down the sterile, white corridors.
— How did he get to the park at night? — the question burned in his throat. — Where was my wife?
There were no answers yet. He stopped at the glass partition of the Pediatric ICU. Behind the glass, hooked up to a dozen monitors, lay his son. He looked so small, so fragile. For the first time in his adult life, Arthur felt a wave of pure, unadulterated terror. He had almost lost everything that actually mattered.
A soft beep drew his attention. The boy stirred, his eyelids fluttering before slowly opening. Arthur rushed to the bedside, taking the tiny, cold hand in his own.
— Leo… — his voice trembled.
The boy’s eyes, cloudy at first, finally focused on his father. Then, he spoke the words that pierced Arthur’s heart like a blade:
— She… she pushed me, Dad.
His eyes closed again, leaving Arthur in a state of shocked paralysis. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the rhythmic pulse of the heart monitor. Arthur stood there, unable to move, as his entire world crumbled around him.
She pushed him. The words echoed in his head, searing into his consciousness as he stared at his son’s pale face. His little boy was lying there, barely clinging to life, and now Arthur knew exactly who was responsible.
Evelyn. The woman he called his wife. The woman he had brought into their home and trusted with his child. His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. How could he have been so blind? How had he missed the fear in the boy’s eyes?
The door to the room opened quietly, and a nurse stepped in. Arthur jumped, his nerves frayed.
— How is he? — he asked, his voice a gravelly whisper.
— Physically, he’s stabilizing, but… — the nurse hesitated. — He’s terrified. Any sudden noise, any stranger entering the room, and his heart rate spikes.
Arthur nodded, his heart aching.
— I want to be here when he wakes up again.
— Of course.
The nurse gave him a sympathetic look and left. Arthur sank into the bedside chair, burying his face in his hands.
Memories began to resurface—strange moments he had dismissed or ignored. How Leo would go quiet whenever Evelyn raised her voice. How he would cling to Arthur’s leg when she entered the room. How he begged not to be left alone with her. Arthur had chalked it up to “adjustment issues.” He thought the boy just needed time to get used to a new mother. But the truth was, the boy had been living in a nightmare.
The police arrived shortly after. Within hours of Leo’s admission, Arthur was being questioned in a small, private waiting room.
— Did you notice anything unusual in your wife’s behavior?
