CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 4
THE NAME ON THE DNA REPORT
The mansion fell silent after the second gunshot.
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Then Sofía screamed.
"Daddy!"
Roberto pulled her against his chest.
"I'm here."
María crawled toward them.
"Sir..."
"Stay behind me."
Vanessa stood frozen at the end of the hallway.
Her face had lost all color.
Roberto looked downstairs.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Only the faint ringing in his ears.
Then Miguel's voice came through the darkness.
"Sir!"
Roberto recognized him immediately.
"Miguel?"
"I'm downstairs."
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"What happened?"
"I heard shots."
Roberto tightened his grip around Sofía.
"Where?"
"The entrance."
Roberto looked at Vanessa.
She was staring toward the staircase.
"Stay here."
He handed Sofía to María.
"Daddy..."
"I'll be right back."
"No."
Sofía clutched his shirt.
"Don't go."
Roberto knelt.
"I won't be long."
"You promised."
He kissed her forehead.
"I promise."
Then he stood.
Miguel appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
His weapon was drawn.
"Nobody is here."
Roberto descended.
"Check every room."
"Already did."
"Then check again."
Miguel nodded.
Roberto walked toward the entrance.
Two bullet holes were visible in the wooden door.
But there was no blood.
No shell casing.
No broken glass.
Nothing.
Miguel crouched.
"These weren't fired from inside."
Roberto looked at the holes.
"Outside?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't the security system trigger?"
Miguel's expression changed.
"It should have."
Roberto looked at him.
"Exactly."
They stared at each other.
Someone had bypassed the security system.
Someone who knew the house.
Someone who knew the cameras.
Someone who knew exactly where to stand.
Roberto turned.
"Lock everything."
Miguel nodded.
Then Roberto heard something.
A faint vibration.
His phone.
He pulled it from his pocket.
One message.
Unknown number.
THE REPORT IS IN YOUR STUDY.
Roberto stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
LOOK UNDER YOUR WIFE'S NAME.
His stomach tightened.
He immediately turned toward the stairs.
"Stay here."
Miguel followed.
"Sir?"
"I need to check something."
They entered the study.
The room was exactly as Roberto had left it.
Except for one thing.
A white envelope sat in the center of his desk.
No name.
No stamp.
No handwriting.
Just a small red mark in the corner.
Roberto approached slowly.
Miguel stood behind him.
"Don't touch it."
Roberto ignored him.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a document.
A laboratory report.
He unfolded it.
His eyes moved across the page.
PATERNITY ANALYSIS
Subject One:
Roberto Alvarez
Subject Two:
Sofía Alvarez
Probability of paternity:
0.00%
Roberto stopped breathing.
Miguel stared at the page.
"Sir..."
Roberto didn't answer.
He read it again.
And again.
Zero percent.
Impossible.
He flipped the page.
There was another section.
Alternative Biological Father:
A name.
One name.
A name Roberto had never expected to see.
His hand began to shake.
Daniel Reyes.
Roberto looked up.
"No."
Miguel said nothing.
Roberto stared at the report.
Daniel.
The man who had been hiding for seven years.
The man who claimed to know what happened the night Isabella died.
The man who had been shot only hours earlier.
The man who had said Sofía's biological father was someone else.
Roberto's mind raced.
"No."
He threw the report onto the desk.
"It can't be."
Miguel picked it up.
"Sir..."
"Don't."
"But—"
"I said don't."
Roberto turned away.
His breathing became uneven.
Seven years.
He had raised Sofía as his daughter.
He had loved her.
Protected her.
Spent millions trying to give her a life after the accident.
He had sat beside her hospital bed.
Held her hand.
Told her she was safe.
He had never once questioned whether she was his.
Not once.
Because Isabella had been his wife.
Because Sofía had been born inside their marriage.
Because he had believed.
And now a single piece of paper was trying to destroy seven years of certainty.
Miguel spoke carefully.
"Sir, a DNA report can be falsified."
Roberto looked at him.
"What?"
"It could be planted."
Roberto stared at the document.
Miguel continued.
"Someone wants you to see this."
Roberto's expression hardened.
"Vanessa."
"Maybe."
"Who else?"
Miguel didn't answer.
Roberto picked up the report.
There was a laboratory name at the bottom.
He recognized it.
"Genex Laboratories."
Miguel frowned.
"You know them?"
"I've used them before."
"When?"
Roberto looked at the date.
His face changed.
"Three months ago."
"For what?"
Roberto didn't answer.
He remembered.
Three months earlier, he had quietly ordered a DNA test.
Not because he suspected Isabella.
Not because he doubted Sofía.
He had done it because of an inheritance dispute.
A distant relative had challenged Sofía's legal claim to part of the Alvarez estate.
Roberto had needed to prove she was his biological daughter.
The test had been done privately.
The results had been sent to his lawyer.
The result had confirmed paternity.
Probability: 99.99%.
He remembered reading it.
He remembered feeling relieved.
So this new report couldn't be real.
Unless...
Roberto looked at the date.
His blood ran cold.
The new report had the same laboratory identification number.
The same case number.
The same sample date.
But a different result.
Impossible.
He whispered:
"Someone altered the report."
Miguel nodded.
"That's what I think."
Roberto looked at the signature.
"Who signed this?"
Dr. Samuel Hart.
Roberto knew him.
He had personally spoken with him three months ago.
Roberto immediately called the number.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
"Who is this?"
A woman's voice whispered:
"Do you want to know what the original report said?"
Roberto froze.
"Who are you?"
"You already know me."
"Name."
"I can't."
"Then why call?"
"Because Vanessa is going to destroy the evidence."
Roberto's jaw tightened.
"Where is the original?"
"Safe."
"Where?"
"Somewhere she can't reach."
"Who are you?"
The woman breathed softly.
Then said:
"Ask Isabella."
Roberto's heart stopped.
"My wife is dead."
"I know."
"Then stop playing games."
The woman hung up.
Roberto stared at the phone.
Miguel asked:
"Who was it?"
"I don't know."
A notification appeared.
A photograph.
Roberto opened it.
His face went pale.
It was a photograph of Isabella.
Alive.
Taken the day before the accident.
She was standing outside Genex Laboratories.
Beside her stood Dr. Samuel Hart.
And Elena Vargas.
Roberto zoomed in.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten message.
THE ORIGINAL DNA TEST WAS NEVER ABOUT YOU.
Upstairs, Sofía was still holding María's hand.
Vanessa stood near the door.
She hadn't spoken since the gunshots.
Sofía turned her head.
"You're scared."
Vanessa looked at her.
"No."
"You are."
"I'm not."
Sofía listened to her breathing.
"You breathe differently when you're afraid."
Vanessa stared at the child.
"How do you know?"
"You used to tell me."
"What?"
"When I was little."
Vanessa froze.
"You remember that?"
Sofía nodded.
"You told me to listen to people's breathing."
María looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa's face changed.
"What else do you remember?"
Sofía frowned.
"Mommy."
Vanessa's eyes hardened.
"Don't."
"She was crying."
"Stop."
"And you were there."
"Enough."
Sofía flinched.
María stepped between them.
"Don't speak to her like that."
Vanessa looked at María.
"You know nothing."
María replied quietly:
"I know more than you think."
Vanessa's gaze shifted toward the hallway.
Roberto was coming.
She could hear his footsteps.
Her expression changed instantly.
The tears returned.
The fear disappeared.
The gentle Vanessa returned.
But María saw it.
She had seen the transformation.
And she knew Roberto had to see it too.
Roberto entered the room.
He looked at Sofía first.
Then María.
Then Vanessa.
"Are you all right?"
Vanessa nodded.
"I'm frightened."
Roberto stared at her.
"Of what?"
"The gunshots."
"Of course."
He looked at Sofía.
"Did anyone come into this room?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
Sofía nodded.
Roberto turned to María.
"Did you see anyone?"
"No."
Vanessa spoke softly.
"I told you, nobody came in."
Roberto looked at her.
"Where were you when the shots were fired?"
"Here."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"With Sofía?"
"Yes."
"Then why did you leave the room?"
Vanessa froze.
"I didn't."
Roberto looked at her.
"You were standing in the hallway."
She swallowed.
"I heard the shots."
"So did everyone."
"I wanted to make sure you were safe."
Roberto stared at her.
Then said:
"Interesting."
Vanessa frowned.
"What?"
"You knew there were two shots."
She went still.
"I heard them."
"The first one was downstairs."
"Yes."
"The second one was outside."
She said nothing.
"So why were you already in the hallway before the second shot?"
Vanessa's lips parted.
"I..."
Roberto stepped closer.
"How did you know where it would come from?"
"I didn't."
"You did."
"No."
Roberto looked at her for several seconds.
Then turned away.
"I need some air."
Vanessa watched him leave.
Her hands trembled.
She had made a mistake.
A small one.
But Roberto had finally begun noticing.
At 2:00 AM, Roberto sat alone in his study.
The DNA report lay in front of him.
He had printed the old report.
Then the new one.
Side by side.
The differences were obvious.
The original:
Probability of paternity: 99.99%.
The new one:
Probability: 0.00%.
The sample number was identical.
The laboratory code was identical.
The signatures looked identical.
Only one thing was different.
The genetic markers.
Someone had replaced the data.
Roberto stared at the name beneath the alternative father.
Daniel Reyes.
Why Daniel?
If someone wanted to destroy his relationship with Sofía, why use Daniel?
Unless Daniel really was her biological father.
Roberto shook his head.
"No."
He refused to accept it.
He remembered Isabella during pregnancy.
She had been happy.
They had been happy.
At least he thought they were.
Then he remembered the final months.
Isabella had become distant.
Secretive.
She had received phone calls late at night.
She had started locking her office.
She had stopped letting him see certain documents.
At the time, he had thought she was stressed.
Now he wondered.
Maybe she had been afraid.
His phone rang.
It was his investigator.
"What did you find?"
"I found the doctor."
Roberto sat forward.
"Samuel Hart?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"Missing."
Roberto closed his eyes.
"Since when?"
"Three months ago."
"Three months?"
"Yes."
"That's when I ordered the DNA test."
"Exactly."
Roberto's grip tightened.
"Who took him?"
"We don't know."
"His family?"
"His wife says he received a call the night before he disappeared."
"From whom?"
"She doesn't know."
"What did the call say?"
"She heard him say one thing."
"What?"
"Elena."
Roberto stared at the wall.
"Elena Vargas."
"Yes."
"Find her."
"I'm trying."
"Now."
"There is another problem."
"What?"
"The DNA sample you gave the laboratory three months ago."
"What about it?"
"It wasn't Sofía's."
Roberto froze.
"What?"
"The sample belonged to someone else."
"Whose?"
The investigator hesitated.
"We don't know."
Roberto stood.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"The laboratory records were altered."
"Then how did the original report show 99.99%?"
"It didn't."
Roberto's heart sank.
"What?"
"The original report never tested your DNA against Sofía."
Silence.
"Then what was tested?"
"We're still trying to determine that."
Roberto's voice became cold.
"Find out."
"I will."
The investigator hesitated.
"Roberto?"
"What?"
"There is one thing you should know."
"Tell me."
"The original request wasn't made under your name."
Roberto frowned.
"Whose name?"
"Isabella Alvarez."
Roberto stopped breathing.
His wife's name.
"She ordered the test."
"When?"
"Three days before she died."
Roberto sat slowly.
Three days.
Before the accident.
His wife had ordered a DNA test.
But why?
And if it wasn't for him and Sofía...
Who was she testing?
The investigator continued:
"The test request included three subjects."
"Who?"
A pause.
"Isabella Alvarez."
"Yes."
"Daniel Reyes."
Roberto closed his eyes.
"And?"
Another pause.
"An unidentified child."
Roberto's eyes opened.
"What?"
"The third subject was listed only as..."
The investigator stopped.
"Listed as what?"
"Baby A."
Roberto felt the room spin.
"Baby A?"
"Yes."
"How old?"
"Approximately six months."
Roberto couldn't speak.
His mind raced.
Sofía had been seven years old.
Not six months.
So the child wasn't Sofía.
Unless...
He remembered something.
The accident.
The hospital.
The confusion.
A second ambulance.
A missing medical file.
A nurse who had disappeared.
He had always assumed those details were irrelevant.
Now they weren't.
"Send me the report."
"I will."
The call ended.
Roberto stared at the darkness.
Then his phone received an email.
He opened it.
The document contained the original DNA request.
Three subjects.
Isabella Alvarez.
Daniel Reyes.
Baby A.
And beneath the results was one sentence.
Biological relationship detected.
Roberto's heart pounded.
He scrolled.
The name of the biological mother appeared.
Isabella Alvarez.
The biological father:
Daniel Reyes.
Roberto dropped the phone.
The room became silent.
Daniel was Sofía's father.
Or at least the child in the test.
But if that child wasn't Sofía...
Then who was Baby A?
And where was she?
The next morning, Roberto went to the hospital where Sofía had been treated seven years ago.
He had not visited the place since the accident.
The building looked smaller than he remembered.
He walked through the entrance.
A nurse at the reception desk recognized him.
"Mr. Alvarez."
"Yes."
"You haven't been here in years."
"I need the records from seven years ago."
The nurse hesitated.
"Which records?"
"Isabella Alvarez."
"And Sofía?"
"Both."
She looked uncomfortable.
"Those records are archived."
"Then bring them."
"I'll need authorization."
Roberto handed her his identification.
"You're looking at it."
Twenty minutes later, an older administrator entered the room.
She looked nervous.
"Mr. Alvarez."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"There are missing records."
Roberto's expression hardened.
"How many?"
"Several."
"Which ones?"
"The emergency intake records."
"Why?"
"We don't know."
"Who removed them?"
"Again, we don't know."
Roberto stared at her.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
She lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"Find them."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because the doctor who signed them is dead."
Roberto closed his eyes.
"Another accident?"
She looked at him.
"Yes."
He almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was absurd.
Everyone who knew something was dead.
Everyone who had touched the truth had disappeared.
And the only people left were the ones who were afraid.
"Who was the nurse on duty?"
The administrator looked through the files.
"Maria Santos."
Roberto's eyes narrowed.
"Maria?"
"Yes."
"What happened to her?"
"She resigned."
"When?"
"Seven years ago."
"Where is she now?"
"We don't know."
Roberto leaned closer.
"Find her."
"I'll try."
"Don't try."
He stood.
"Find her."
That afternoon, Roberto returned home.
He found María in the garden.
She was watering flowers.
He approached slowly.
"María."
She looked up.
"Sir?"
"Did you work at the hospital after the accident?"
The watering can slipped slightly in her hand.
"Who told you?"
"So you did."
She looked away.
"For a short time."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You never asked."
"What did you see?"
"Nothing."
"María."
She sighed.
"I saw Sofía."
"At the hospital?"
"Yes."
"Tell me everything."
She looked around.
Then whispered:
"Your daughter was brought in after the accident."
"I know."
"No."
She shook her head.
"You don't."
"What don't I know?"
"She wasn't the only baby there."
Roberto went still.
"What?"
María's eyes filled with tears.
"There was another child."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"What happened?"
"Someone came for the child."
"Who?"
"I never saw his face."
"Male?"
She nodded.
"What did he do?"
"He gave the nurse an envelope."
"Money?"
"No."
"Then what?"
María whispered:
"A photograph."
"Of what?"
"Of your wife."
Roberto's heart stopped.
"What did the photograph show?"
"Your wife holding a baby."
"Which baby?"
"I don't know."
Roberto stared at her.
"María..."
She looked terrified.
"There is something else."
"What?"
"The baby wasn't seven years old."
Roberto's blood ran cold.
"How old?"
"About six months."
The world seemed to stop.
Baby A.
Six months old.
Isabella.
Daniel.
The DNA test.
The missing hospital records.
Everything was beginning to connect.
But one piece still didn't fit.
Sofía.
Roberto looked toward the mansion.
"Where was Sofía?"
María whispered:
"She was asleep."
"What?"
"After the surgery."
"What surgery?"
María closed her eyes.
"She had a head injury."
"I know."
"No."
She shook her head.
"They operated on her."
Roberto froze.
"What are you saying?"
"Sofía had surgery."
"When?"
"The night of the accident."
"Why didn't I know?"
"You were unconscious."
Roberto's face went pale.
"How long?"
"Three hours."
"What did they do?"
María whispered:
"They changed the bandages."
Roberto stared.
"What?"
"They covered her eyes."
"Why?"
María looked directly at him.
"Because the doctors said the damage was severe."
Roberto's voice trembled.
"But you said she wasn't blind before."
"I know."
"Then what happened?"
María lowered her voice.
"She wasn't supposed to wake up."
Silence.
"What?"
"The doctors didn't think she would survive."
Roberto took a step backward.
"María..."
She looked at him.
"But she did."
"Yes."
"And when she woke up..."
María's eyes filled with tears.
"She kept asking for her mother."
Roberto's throat tightened.
"What did she say?"
María whispered:
"She said Mommy gave her to someone."
Roberto froze.
"Who?"
María shook her head.
"She didn't know the name."
"What did the person look like?"
"A woman."
Roberto's heart stopped.
"Vanessa?"
María nodded.
"That's what I thought."
Roberto's hands curled into fists.
"But there was something strange."
"What?"
"The woman wasn't called Vanessa."
Roberto stared.
"What was she called?"
María whispered:
"Elena."
That night, Roberto confronted Vanessa.
He found her sitting alone in the living room.
She was reading.
Calm.
Elegant.
As if the world had not been collapsing around them.
Roberto stood across from her.
"Elena."
The book slipped from her hands.
She looked up.
"What did you call me?"
"Elena."
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But Roberto saw it.
"You knew Isabella."
"No."
"You worked for her."
"No."
"You were at the accident."
"No."
"You were at the hospital."
"No."
"You took care of Sofía."
Vanessa stood.
"Stop."
"You were there."
"Stop."
"You used another name."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Roberto..."
"Who are you?"
She shook her head.
"I love you."
"Who are you?"
"I became Vanessa because—"
She stopped.
Roberto stepped closer.
"Because what?"
She looked at him.
"Because Isabella asked me to."
He froze.
"What?"
"She asked me."
"Why?"
"To protect you."
"From what?"
Vanessa began crying.
"From the truth."
"What truth?"
She looked toward the stairs.
Then whispered:
"That the child you raised isn't the child Isabella gave birth to."
Roberto couldn't breathe.
"What?"
Vanessa closed her eyes.
"Your Sofía..."
She opened them.
"...is not Baby A."
Silence.
Roberto stared at her.
"What did you do to my daughter?"
Vanessa shook her head.
"I didn't take her."
"Then who did?"
She whispered:
"Your wife."
Roberto's face went blank.
"No."
"She gave Sofía to someone."
"Why?"
"Because she was trying to save her."
"From who?"
Vanessa looked toward the dark window.
Then whispered:
"From Daniel."
Roberto stared.
"Daniel?"
Vanessa nodded.
"He wasn't the man you think he is."
"What is he?"
"A father."
"To whom?"
Vanessa's lips trembled.
"To Baby A."
Roberto's mind raced.
Then the front door opened.
Everyone turned.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
Blood still stained his shirt.
He looked directly at Vanessa.
Then at Roberto.
And said:
"She's lying."
Roberto stared.
Daniel continued:
"I am not Sofía's father."
Vanessa's face went white.
Daniel stepped inside.
"The DNA report is real."
Roberto's heart pounded.
"But the name on it..."
Daniel looked at him.
"...is not mine."
He reached into his coat.
Pulled out a second report.
And placed it on the table.
Roberto unfolded it.
There was one name.
The true biological father.
Roberto stared at it.
His knees nearly gave way.
Because the name belonged to a man who had been officially dead for seven years.
RAFAEL ALVAREZ.
His father.
The man Vanessa had just claimed was still alive.
Roberto looked up.
Vanessa was crying.
Daniel was silent.
And somewhere upstairs, Sofía began screaming.
"Daddy!"
Roberto ran.
But before he reached the stairs, his phone vibrated.
One final message appeared.
NOW YOU KNOW WHO SOFÍA'S FATHER IS.
May you like
Then another.
BUT YOU STILL DON'T KNOW WHO SOFÍA REALLY IS.
