CHAPTER 6 — THE DNA REPORT
CHAPTER 6 — THE DNA REPORT
Three days later, Richard called.
It was the first time he had ever phoned me directly.
His voice shook.
"We need to meet."
"Why?"
"I found something."
"Where?"
"Not the house."
His answer came too quickly.
"Margaret checks my phone."
A chill ran through me.
We met in a quiet botanical garden across town.
Children chased butterflies while elderly couples fed ducks nearby.
Richard looked twenty years older than he had on Sunday.
Dark circles hung beneath his eyes.
He carried a worn leather briefcase.
"I should have spoken years ago."
"You should have."
He nodded.
"I know."
From the briefcase he removed a sealed laboratory envelope.
The logo belonged to a modern genetic testing company.
Date:
Only six months earlier.
I frowned.
"What is this?"
Richard swallowed.
"Margaret ordered it."
"Ordered what?"
"A DNA test."
"For whom?"
He closed his eyes.
"...For Thomas."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"She told him it was part of a medical screening."
Richard's voice broke.
"It wasn't."
Hands trembling, I opened the report.
The final line was highlighted.
Probability of paternity: 0.00%.
I looked at Richard.
"I don't understand."
"I raised Thomas."
"He's my son in every way that matters."
"But biologically..."
He couldn't finish.
The implication hung between us.
Thomas wasn't Richard's biological child.
Which meant...
Margaret had hidden another pregnancy.
Another secret.
Another lie spanning decades.
"Who is Thomas's father?"
"I don't know."
"You've never asked?"
"I did."
Richard looked away.
"She threatened to leave."
"So you stayed."
"I loved him."
His voice cracked.
"I chose the boy."
For the first time, I understood why Richard had remained silent all these years.
Silence had become the price of keeping his family together.
Now it was destroying that same family.
"I've hired someone," Richard admitted quietly.
"A private investigator."
"To find Emily?"
He nodded.
"And?"
The investigator had uncovered something unexpected.
Emily Harper had not disappeared twenty-six years ago.
Someone matching her name had entered Canada under a different surname only weeks after vanishing.
There was no confirmed proof it was her.
But there was enough evidence to reopen the search.
Hope.
After twenty-six years...
Hope.
Richard reached into his briefcase one last time.
He handed me an old cassette tape in a clear plastic case.
"I found this hidden behind insulation in the attic."
The handwritten label simply read:
May 18, 2000.
"What is it?"
"I don't know."
"But Margaret burned every other tape in that box."
"She missed this one."
I turned the cassette over in my hands.
On the inside cover, someone had written:
If anything happens to me... let my child hear the truth.
The handwriting matched Emily's letters.
Before I could ask another question, Richard's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face went white.
"Margaret."
He declined the call.
It rang again.
And again.
Then a text appeared.
Richard stared at it in horror.
"What?"
He silently handed me the phone.
The message contained only one photograph.
Thomas.
Standing in front of my apartment building.
Looking confused.
Completely unaware that someone was taking his picture from across the street.
Beneath the image were six chilling words:
He's starting to ask questions too.
Richard whispered,
"We're too late."
At that exact moment—
My own phone rang.
It was my obstetrician's office.
I answered immediately.
Dr. Grant's normally calm voice sounded urgent.
"Isabella..."
"You need to come to the hospital."
"Right now."
"What happened?"
There was a long pause.
Then she said the words every pregnant mother fears.
May you like
"Someone accessed your confidential medical records this morning..."
"...using authorization that appears to have come from a member of your family."
