Savannah's POV
His voice cracked like broken glass against my ears. Never once in our marriage had I witnessed Jonathan cry, yet the raw anguish threading through his words painted a picture I could barely comprehend.
"Savannah, I'm so sorry. There was nothing else I could do."
A bitter laugh tore from my throat. How could those words even form on his lips? What sort of husband trades his wife to his twisted brother like a bargaining chip? What kind of man orchestrates the fake loss of his own child just to clear a path to another woman's bed?
My mouth opened and closed, desperate to unleash the storm of questions burning in my chest. I wanted to scream at him, demand answers, make him feel even a fraction of the agony he'd carved into my soul.
But silence claimed my voice. Nothing emerged except the weight of my devastation.
