Vanessa dropped the yellow sponge into the porcelain sink with a wet slap.

“Olivia Jean, that’s a flat-out lie,” Vanessa said, her chest heaving as she stepped toward her daughter.

“You march upstairs to the guest room right now.”

“Stay right there, little one,” the second paramedic said, raising a blue-gloved hand to stop Vanessa.

He took a black radio off his belt.

“Dispatch, this is Unit Four.

We need an officer sent to four-twelve Crestview for a child injury report.”

My mother stepped in between the paramedic and Olivia and laid her palm flat on Olivia’s shoulder to turn her back toward the hall.