"Oh, Jack! Thank God you're here. It was the most awful, terrifying accident. I turned my back for one second—literally one second—to answer an email for you, and she tried to pull a pot of boiling water off the stove. I tried to catch her, I really did, but—"
She stopped. She finally looked past me to the bed. She saw the heavy white bandages wrapped completely around Emily's hands. But more importantly, she saw the way the doctor, the nurse, and the social worker were looking at her. They weren't looking at a distraught mother. They were looking at a crime scene.
"Rachel," I said. The word tasted like ash in my mouth.
"Jack, honey, she’s so clumsy lately," Rachel continued, her voice trembling with practiced emotion as she took a step into the room. "You know how she gets. I told her not to touch the stove. I told her..."