Next to him, Jessica was sitting up, a bandage on her forehead and a hint of fear in her eyes as she met my gaze. An awkward silence settled, thick and impenetrable. My instincts screamed to demand answers, but the doctor’s presence held me back.

Dr. Harris cleared his throat, breaking the oppressive quiet. “Mrs. Thompson, I must warn you that your husband suffered a concussion. He may experience some temporary memory lapses.”

I nodded, the doctor’s words barely penetrating the fog of emotional turmoil. My eyes flickered back to Jessica, who fidgeted with the edge of her hospital gown. Her presence was a question mark, a riddle that demanded solving.