Nathan continued questioning every step. He asked how long the appointment would take, whether Sophie’s records were stored electronically, and who could access her medical information.
The questions seemed strangely specific. Dr. Reeves answered professionally, but I noticed him studying Nathan whenever my husband looked away. The atmosphere grew more uncomfortable by the minute.
After reviewing the images, Dr. Reeves explained that Sophie had a badly decayed molar requiring treatment. He also noticed tenderness near her jaw that deserved further evaluation.
“Has Sophie experienced any recent injury to her face?” he asked. I shook my head. “Not that I know of.” Nathan answered before Sophie could speak.
“She fell off her bicycle last week,” he said. “Kids are clumsy.” I turned toward him. Sophie hadn’t mentioned any bicycle accident, and I’d seen no injuries.
Dr. Reeves looked at Sophie. “Do you remember falling?” She hesitated, then glanced toward Nathan. “I don’t know,” she whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.
My stomach tightened. Nathan gave an impatient sigh. “She’s embarrassed because she wasn’t wearing her helmet. Can we please finish the appointment?”
The dentist didn’t argue. Instead, he calmly suggested that Nathan accompany the assistant to reception to review insurance information while he discussed treatment options with me.
Nathan refused. “I’ll stay here.” Dr. Reeves paused, then nodded. He explained the dental procedure and scheduled a follow-up, maintaining an unusually careful tone throughout.
When Sophie needed to rinse her mouth, I noticed Dr. Reeves quietly writing something on a small piece of paper. He folded it beneath the appointment card.
