“Dad says it’s nothing,” he continued, glancing off-camera. “And he’ll get mad if I tell you. But I’m scared. You said to always tell you if something’s wrong, so I am.”
In the background, Eric’s voice cut in sharply.
“Put that away, Liam! You’re fine. Stop making a scene. Don’t worry, your mom.”
Liam looked back at the camera, his lips pressed together.
The video ended.
I sank onto the bed, the phone slipping slightly in my grip.
He had reached out to me.
He had been scared.
And I hadn’t been there.
I called the hospital immediately, my voice shaking but urgent. I explained everything: the canceled appointment, the note, the video.
“This is important,” I said. “Please, the doctor needs to see this.”
They promised to pass it along.
That night, I didn’t sleep.
Eric’s messages kept coming.
Don’t make me the bad guy.
We need to stay united.
Stop digging, Olivia.
But it was too late for that.
By morning, everything had changed.
At the hospital, I met with the doctor and a social worker. I showed them the video, handed over the documents, and explained everything in detail.
They listened carefully, their expressions growing more serious with each piece of information.
“We’re updating his chart immediately,” the doctor said. “Thank you for bringing this to us.”
