They left their two-month-old with me while they went shopping. But his desperate crying wouldn’t stop. I checked his diaper and what I found made my hands tremble. I grabbed him and rushed to the hospital.

The taxi ride felt endless.

Every red light was unbearable. Every second stretched thin with fear.

“Please,” I kept saying to the driver, my voice shaking, “it’s a baby—please go faster.”

In the backseat, I held my grandson close to my chest, trying to steady his tiny body as his cries turned hoarse and uneven. His face was flushed, his …