“Push four milligrams of Lorazepam, now!” Cassandra ordered, pinning Lili’s small shoulders to the mattress to keep her from throwing herself off the bed.
The little girl’s eyes were wide open, but they weren’t focused on the ceiling. They were rolled back so far that only the bloodshot whites were visible. Her tiny jaw was clamped shut so hard that blood began to seep from her gums, trickling down the side of her pale cheek.
But the most horrifying spectacle was her stomach.
As the seizure racked her tiny frame, the mass beneath her skin began to move. It wasn’t a random spasm of abdominal muscles. It was a distinct, rhythmic, undulating motion, shifting from the left side of her ribcage down to her pelvis, like a heavy fluid swirling violently inside a leather bag.
“Look at the belly!” one of the attending residents gasped, stepping back in sheer instinctual revulsion. “Doctor, something is trying to rupture the abdominal wall!”
