“Where does it hurt?” Emily asked calmly, her hand hovering near the girl’s abdomen.
The child hesitated, then placed her small hand just below her ribs.
“Here. It hurts inside. Mostly at night.”
Emily pressed gently.
What she felt wasn’t normal.
Not a cramp.
Not swelling.
Something hard. Foreign. Dangerous.
Her heart slammed in her chest—but her face remained steady.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Emily said quickly when the girl tensed. “You’re very brave. Can you tell me anything else?”
Without taking her eyes off the child, Emily pressed the call button for the attending physician.
She kept her voice low and reassuring.
“I’m here. We’re going to help you.”
Minutes later, Dr. Michael Reynolds, a pediatric surgeon with tired eyes and sharp instincts, entered the room. Emily explained quietly. He examined the child immediately.
When he straightened, his expression had changed completely.
“Prep the OR,” he said firmly. “Now.”
The word surgery made the girl’s eyes widen.
“I won’t be alone, right?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Emily squeezed her hand.
“No,” she said softly. “I’ll be right there. I promise.”