“Are you reporting my mother?”
The pediatrician didn’t answer right away.
“I am documenting what your daughter has told me and what I’ve observed. I also have obligations when I have reasonable concern about a child’s safety.”
“You’re making an accusation.”
“No,” she said. “I’m doing my job.”
He laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“This is unbelievable.”
My daughter flinched.
The pediatrician noticed.
So did I.
My husband noticed too.
For the first time that morning, his expression changed.
Not guilt.
Fear.
He glanced at the folder again.
Then at his daughter.
Then at me.
“What exactly did she tell you?”
I felt my stomach tighten.
The pediatrician answered carefully.
“That she was threatened with having her hair cut. That she understood your response to the threat as approval. That she did not feel she had a choice when the haircut happened. And that she is frightened enough now that she’s avoiding mirrors and covering her head.”
