“What did you just say?!” Abigail’s voice cut through the quiet night like a whip, drawing startled looks from around camp. Folks were trying to settle down for sleep, but she didn’t give a damn. She marched after you, eyes blazing with fury.

“‘Are you sure the kid is mine?’” she repeated, incredulous, before swatting the logs right out of your hands. They tumbled to the ground as she forced you to stop in your tracks, leaving you face-to-face with a woman ready to explode.

“Abigail, don’t make me spell it out… You know why I asked,” you stammered, but the words felt hollow as you saw the disbelief and hurt flash across her face.

Without warning, her hand came up and slapped you hard across the cheek. “You really are a damn fool, you know that? The only one I’ve been with these past four months is you, because—damn it—I love you!” Her voice cracked with a mix of rage and something close to desperation.

She shook her head and turned sharply on her heel, storming off toward her tent. You rubbed your stinging cheek, watching her go, but then, on instinct, you reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Abigail, wait…” you began, but she yanked her arm free, spinning around with fire still in her eyes.

“Get your hands off me!” she snapped.

You backed off, raising your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just calm down for a second, would you?”

She crossed her arms, glaring at you like you were the most infuriating person on earth. “What do you want?” she demanded.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Listen… I’ll help you with the baby, alright? I just wanted to be sure…”

Abigail’s expression softened just a fraction, but her eyes were still hard. “If you ever ask me that again, I swear to God, I’ll knock you flat on your ass,” she warned, one hand protectively resting on her barely-there bump.

Her tone was less fiery now, but she was still mad as hell. You knew better than to push your luck any further.