“He was picking up his pencils from the floor,” I said.

“And you grabbed his arm and threw him.”

“Family issues are always settled privately in this household,” Charles said, his voice dropping into the deep, commanding tone he used in boardrooms.

“Cancel the emergency call.

We’ll take the boy to a private urgent care clinic ourselves.”

I didn’t answer him.

I knelt beside Toby on the floor and laid my left hand gently on his pale forehead.

“The paramedics are turning onto your street now, ma’am,” the dispatcher said.