“Then what?”
“I called for Margaret.
No answer.
Zion kept crying.
I picked him up because he was getting more upset.
His breathing sounded fast.”
The doctor leaned forward.
“Fast or noisy?”
“Fast.
Not loud.
He would calm down for a few seconds and then start again.”
“Did you give him anything? Food? Medicine?”
“No.
Nothing.”
“Good.
Continue.”
Emily folded her hands.
“I thought cooling him gently might make him more comfortable while I found Margaret.
I didn’t use cold water.
I tested it first.
I put the plastic baby tub in the sink because it was already in the kitchen after being cleaned.
I never put him directly against the sink.”
Marcus looked down.
That detail struck him with painful force.
He had entered the room and believed he understood everything in three seconds.
He had not even noticed the separate baby tub.
He had seen a cleaner, a sink, and his son.
Then he had built the rest of the story himself.
“How long was he in the water?” the doctor asked.
“Only a few minutes.”
“And how did he seem?”
Emily hesitated.
“Tired.
Too tired after crying that much.
That’s what frightened me.”
Marcus raised his head.
That was the moment he finally remembered something he had dismissed in the kitchen.
Zion had splashed once.
But his laugh had been faint.
And when Marcus lifted him from the tub, the baby had simply rested against his chest.
Marcus had interpreted that as comfort.
Emily had interpreted it as a warning.
The doctor wrote several notes.
“Did you tell Mr.
Whitaker that?”
Emily looked at Marcus.
“I tried.”
The room went still.
Marcus did not defend himself.
He could hear every interruption now.
Sir, I can explain.
So you thought you could take her place?
He was uncomfortable—
You’re fired.
The doctor closed the chart.
“This timeline is helpful.
