“Because I can’t compete with him!” she burst out. “Every second of your attention goes to that baby. You walk in and you don’t even see me anymore.”
Michael stared at her.
“So you hurt him?”
“I thought if he became… difficult enough,” she continued, lowering her voice, “maybe you’d consider specialized care. There are private residential programs for high-needs infants. We could have our life back.”
The words landed like lead.
This wasn’t ignorance.
It wasn’t a home remedy mistake.
It was strategy.
Michael tightened his hold on Ethan.
“Get out,” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Pack your things and leave.”
“We’re married. This is my house too.”
“I have evidence of child abuse in my hand. If you don’t walk out now, I’m calling the police — and I won’t hesitate.”
She looked at him with open resentment.
“You’re choosing him over me.”
Michael didn’t raise his voice.
“There’s no choice when someone tortures my child.”
She left within the hour.
That night, pediatric specialist Dr. Andrew Collins at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center examined Ethan. He photographed the injuries.