Little Girl Complains Of Severe Abdominal Pain After A Weekend With Her Stepfather — And When Doctor Found Ultrasound, She Immediately Called An Ambulance

Clara felt the cold hospital room swirl around her. She looked at her son’s pale, aching face and tried to milk her sadness. The doctor seemed calm, but in his eyes, an impossible hiding worry was evident.

— “Oh, sweetheart, please… tell us exactly what happened on Saturday night?» the doctor asked in a soft voice, leaning over the young woman.

The little doll. She bit her lip and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

— “It’s so painful… and Martí told me not to tell Mom… That he would just be worried. He gave me some pills… It’s very bittersweet. Then… I remember everything now.”

Clara’s blood was boiling. Pills? Why would Martí give her medicine if she didn’t tell anyone?

The doctor immediately responded:

— “It’s important to know what kind of ingredients you’re drinking. I’ve requested amblyopia, and we’ll do all the necessary hospital tests. It’s just not digestible.”

Every moment seemed eternal. Finally, the ambulance arrived, and the blue lights illuminated the victim’s veins. Paramedics moved the patient to a stretcher and immediately began stabilization procedures.

Clara walked down the hallway of the hospital, almost in tears. Her mind kept coming back to the same question: How did she see it then? How could she leave her son alone with Martí?

On the way home, the doctor told him:

— “The symptoms and what we saw on the ultrasound indicate that Aa’s body was exposed to something it shouldn’t. Her liver and stomach showed damage. We will have exact confirmation after the lab work.”

In the waiting room, Clara felt for the first time a burning anger, mingled with an unbearable guilt. Martí. The man she trusted with her life and that of her son. The Man He Trusted. What is he hiding from the truth?

Your mobile phone is vibrating. A message from Martí:

“Is everything okay? I’ve come home. Are you alright?”

Clara clenched her fists. He didn’t respond. At that very moment, the doctor walked out the door of the emergency room.

— «Aa’s condition is stable, but we have serious suspicions. We need to inform the authorities. He probably ate toxic substances.”

The words “notify the authorities” hit Clara like lightning. He realized that the nightmare had only just begun.

She looked up at her son’s flushed face, visible behind the living room mirror. And at that moment he made an irrevocable decision: he would no longer allow Martí to come near the young woman.

And deep down in my heart, I knew the truth about that weekend was going to be darker than I had imagined.

The girl complained of severe abdominal pain last week with her father – and the doctor, upon seeing the ultrasound, immediately called an ambulance.

That morning was supposed to start like any other. Clara, mother of an eight-year-old girl named Aa, prepares breakfast before dropping her off at school. But there was one thing that was deeply troubling.

Aa turned pale, sitting at the table with her hand on her stomach.
“Ma… “It still hurts,” she whispered in a soft voice.

Clara felt her chest. “Did you get sick yesterday?” He nodded, his eyes wide and bitter.

— “It started on Saturday night… It’s really bad. I told Martí (Clara’s husband, Aa’s stepfather), but he told me it was probably because of the pizza.

Over the weekend Clara had to go to work, leaving her son in Martí’s care. Up until then, he had always ignored the girl’s complaints, convinced that they were just passing on the annoyances. This time, however, a cold feeling ran through his blood.

Wasting no time, she took him to the pediatrician who has been treating him since he was born.

After a thorough examination, the doctor decided to perform an ultrasound “just in case.” However, as soon as the images appeared on the screen, the silence disappeared from his face. He exchanged a worried look at his assistant.

— “Doctor, what’s going on?” — Clara asked in a trembling voice.

The doctor immediately picked up the phone and, emphatically, said:
“I need amblyopia for an eight-year-old girl.”

Then he turned to Aa, colored and scratched at the examination table. At that moment, a terrifying question popped into Clara’s mind:

What exactly happened that weekend with his stepfather?