“I think,” the doctor said carefully, “we may have found your answer.” He straightened. “We’re going to test what’s under her nails. Immediately.” The waiting came again—but this time it felt sharper, heavier, charged with dread. When the results returned, there was no room left for doubt.
Trace amounts of pesticide. Not enough to harm an adult. But for a child Maxine’s size—repeated exposure, direct ingestion—it explained everything. The fevers. The lethargy. The weight loss. The vomiting. “She wasn’t poisoned intentionally,” the doctor said gently. “But she was exposed. Over time.”