Marissa whispered, “Why would you do that?”
Jordan had not shown up at the clinic by coincidence.
They had come because of Grace.
Dr. Porter explained that someone using Jordan’s email address had contacted the clinic asking whether my foster placement could be challenged by a former spouse, claiming “emotional instability” after infertility treatment.
My arms tightened around Grace.
Diane’s voice shook.
“Jordan, what did you do?”
Jordan stared down at the floor.
“Mom kept saying it looked bad. Marissa is pregnant, and if Amelia adopts first, people will ask why I left.”
I almost laughed.
Not because any of it was funny.
Because after everything that had happened, they were still more terrified of public embarrassment than of the cruelty they had caused in private.
Marissa stepped away from Jordan.
“You told me she was unstable.”
“I was hurt,” Jordan said.
“No,” I replied. “You were exposed.”
The clinic director contacted the county caseworker, and I called my attorney.
By that evening, Jordan’s attempt to access Grace’s file, the hidden bank account records, and the false statements they had made were all added to my divorce case.
