She drew back the sleeve of my coat to check the pulse at his wrist.

As she raised his arm, the soft yellow glow of the dome light fell across his skin.

Two dark, purplish rings circled his small right wrist, just above the cuff of his wet pajamas.

Dr.

Reed didn’t say a word aloud.

She ran her thumb over the skin beside the marks, studying the shape of the bruising with a slow, careful motion.

“Benji,” Dr.