I looked at Jesse, confused. The Fox family was responsible for my kidnapping. They were the reason for my nightmares.
But Jesse didn't recoil. He smiled—a warm, forgiving smile I hadn't seen directed at me in years.
"It's fine," he said softly. "That's all in the past. You were just a child ten years ago. You aren't responsible for Isaac's sins."
A cold dread settled in my stomach. Before I could speak, Jesse ushered me into the examination room.
The exam was clinical and cold. When I stepped out, I found Joanna speaking to Jesse, her brow furrowed in feigned concern.
"The endoscopic results are concerning," she said, her voice pitched perfectly—professional yet reluctant. "Your wife's uterine wall is dangerously thin. Extensive scarring consistent with frequent trauma. Judging by the damage... she must have had at least seven or eight abortions recently."
Jesse froze. The color drained from his face.
"Impossible," he whispered. "Every time... I used protection."
"Is it possible... that the man responsible for your wife's pregnancy wasn't you, Mr. Gilbert?"