Chapter 10 — The DNA Result
Chapter 10 — The DNA Result
The DNA report arrived at 8:03 on Thursday morning.
I had been expecting it for days.
Still, when the email appeared on my phone, my hands went cold.
PATERNITY TEST — FINAL REPORT
I stared at the subject line.
For months, Daniel had insisted that Chloe's baby was not his responsibility.
Not legally.
Not emotionally.
Not permanently.
He had called himself a friend.
A helper.
A man who had simply stepped in when another woman needed support.
But I knew better.
The messages had told me enough.
Now the laboratory had an answer.
I opened the attachment.
There were percentages.
Names.
Dates.
Technical language I barely understood.
Then I found the sentence that mattered.
The probability of paternity is greater than 99.99%.
Daniel was the baby's father.
There was no ambiguity.
No misunderstanding.
No convenient explanation.
I sat at the kitchen table and stared at the screen.
Lily slept upstairs.
The house was silent.
For several minutes, I did nothing.
I had thought the result would hurt.
Instead, I felt something strangely close to relief.
Because uncertainty had been one of Daniel's favorite weapons.
He used it everywhere.
Maybe.
I don't remember.
You misunderstood.
It's complicated.
She doesn't matter.
Now there was one thing he could no longer explain away.
The baby was his.
And that meant every lie he had told me had been built on something real.
I forwarded the report to Laura.
Her reply came less than a minute later.
Do not send it to Daniel yet.
I frowned.
I called her.
“Why?”
“Because the timing matters.”
“What timing?”
“His custody hearing.”
“He already knows the baby is his.”
“Knowing and having a certified result are different things.”
I understood.
The DNA report wasn't just proof of an affair.
It established a legal connection.
It could affect custody.
Financial obligations.
Credibility.
And most importantly, the story Daniel had been telling the court.
Laura continued.
“He represented himself as a devoted father trying to protect Lily.”
“He is.”
“Yes.”
She paused.
“But he also concealed another child.”
I looked at the report.
“What happens now?”
“That depends on what Chloe wants.”
“Does she know?”
“She requested the test.”
I remembered her frightened voice.
The threats.
The pressure.
The way Daniel had tried to make her disappear.
“She needs a lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“Can we help her?”
“We can help her find one.”
I nodded.
Then I asked:
“What does this mean for my divorce?”
“It changes the picture.”
“How?”
“Daniel's credibility is already damaged. This makes it worse.”
I stared at the report.
“Good.”
At noon, Chloe called.
“Did you get it?”
“Yes.”
She exhaled.
“So did I.”
“How are you?”
“Angry.”
“Me too.”
She was quiet.
Then:
“I thought knowing for certain would make me happy.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
I understood.
“You wanted him to deny it.”
“No.”
“You wanted him to admit it.”
“Yes.”
“And he still hasn't?”
“He called me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the result doesn't change anything.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course he did.”
“He said he loves the baby.”
“Does he?”
“I don't know.”
Neither of us spoke.
Then Chloe said:
“He asked me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A statement saying I won't seek custody.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“He said if I don't, he'll make sure you take everything.”
I looked at the ceiling.
“He's trying to use you against me.”
“Yes.”
“And me against you.”
“Yes.”
We were both silent.
Then Chloe whispered:
“Jennifer?”
“Yes?”
“I think Daniel is afraid.”
“Why?”
“Because I found something.”
“What?”
“A bank account.”
My heart stopped.
“Whose?”
“I don't know.”
“What's the name?”
“Blackstone Private.”
I sat up.
“Where did you find it?”
“In the documents Daniel gave me.”
“What documents?”
“He wanted me to sign a custody agreement.”
My pulse quickened.
“Do you have copies?”
“Yes.”
“Send them to Laura.”
“I will.”
“Chloe?”
“Yes?”
“Don't meet him alone.”
“I won't.”
She hesitated.
“He told me something else.”
“What?”
“He said your father knew about the baby.”
I froze.
“My father died before Lily was born.”
“I know.”
“He couldn't have known.”
“He said your father knew Daniel had gotten another woman pregnant.”
I felt a chill.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
But suddenly, I wasn't sure.
My father's investigation had started years earlier.
He had been watching Daniel.
Perhaps he had known more than either of us realized.
That afternoon, Laura sent me another document.
It was an old email.
From my father.
To Daniel.
The date was eighteen months before my father's death.
The subject line read:
You need to tell Jennifer the truth.
I opened it.
There were only three sentences.
I know about the other woman.
I know about the money.
If you marry my daughter, I will make sure she knows everything.
I stared at the screen.
Daniel had known my father was aware.
Yet he married me anyway.
Why?
Unless he believed he could stop my father.
I called Laura.
“Did Dad ever meet Chloe?”
“Not that we know.”
“Then who was the other woman?”
“We're still trying to determine that.”
I looked at the DNA report.
“There may have been more than one.”
“Yes.”
“Find out.”
“I am.”
That evening, Daniel came home unexpectedly.
He stood in the doorway.
“Can we talk?”
I didn't invite him in.
“What about?”
“The DNA.”
I felt nothing.
“Which DNA?”
He stared at me.
“You know.”
“I know a lot of things.”
“Chloe sent you the report.”
I said nothing.
He stepped inside.
“You need to understand something.”
“No.”
“Jennifer—”
“You've had years to explain.”
“I didn't know how.”
“You knew exactly how.”
He looked exhausted.
“I am the baby's father.”
“Yes.”
“And I want to be involved.”
“Then be involved.”
“I can't if you destroy me.”
I looked at him.
“You're doing that yourself.”
“I made mistakes.”
“You keep calling them mistakes.”
He lowered his head.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“I love Lily.”
“I believe you.”
“And I love—”
He stopped.
I waited.
He didn't finish.
“Chloe?”
He looked away.
“I don't know.”
That was the first honest thing he had said in months.
Then I asked:
“Did you ever love me?”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before everything.”
“When did it stop?”
“I don't know.”
I nodded.
“That answer tells me everything.”
He walked toward the kitchen.
“Can we at least try to keep this civil?”
I laughed softly.
“You filed for emergency custody.”
“I was scared.”
“You forged my mother's statement.”
“I didn't forge it.”
“You manipulated her.”
“I needed evidence.”
“You accessed my trust.”
“I was protecting our future.”
“You had another child.”
He closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“And you expected me to keep paying for the life you built with another woman.”
He didn't answer.
I reached into the folder beside me.
Then I placed the DNA report on the table.
“You are the father.”
He looked at it.
His face changed.
Not shock.
Not relief.
Fear.
“Who gave you this?”
“Chloe.”
He picked up the report.
His hands trembled.
“It's real.”
“Yes.”
He sat down.
For the first time, he looked like a man who understood that his story had ended.
But then he looked up.
“Jennifer, there's something you don't know.”
I crossed my arms.
“There's always something I don't know.”
“The DNA test wasn't the only test.”
“What do you mean?”
He stared at the report.
“There's another child.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What?”
“Before Chloe.”
I couldn't speak.
“Who?”
He swallowed.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“I was told there was a pregnancy.”
“By whom?”
“Evelyn.”
My heart stopped.
“What does Evelyn have to do with this?”
“She was pregnant.”
The room became silent.
I remembered the recording.
The agreement.
The promises.
The money.
“You told me Evelyn was a business partner.”
“She was.”
“You promised her your company.”
“Yes.”
“Were you the father?”
Daniel looked at me.
“I don't know.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“She said the baby was mine.”
“Was it?”
“She never told me.”
“What happened?”
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
I looked at him.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You never looked?”
“I tried.”
“You're lying.”
He didn't respond.
I leaned closer.
“You knew.”
His eyes filled with something I couldn't identify.
Fear.
Shame.
Or both.
“I found out she had a daughter.”
I froze.
“A daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Daniel.”
“I swear.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I don't know where she is.”
“Then how do you know she exists?”
He looked at me.
“Because your father found her.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Your father found Evelyn's daughter.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Daniel!”
He stood.
“Your father threatened me with her.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew she was connected to me.”
I stared at him.
“Connected how?”
He whispered:
“She may be my daughter.”
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I kept thinking about the words.
Another child.
Another woman.
Another secret.
My father's investigation had suddenly become much bigger than Daniel's affair with Chloe.
There was a missing woman.
A possible daughter.
And my father had apparently known.
At 2:17 a.m., my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
You are looking for Evelyn's daughter.
I sat upright.
Another message arrived.
Stop looking.
Then a photograph.
A young woman.
Maybe twenty years old.
Standing outside a university building.
I stared at her face.
There was something familiar about her.
Not the eyes.
Not the hair.
Something about the expression.
I enlarged the photograph.
My heart stopped.
She was wearing a necklace.
A small silver pendant.
I had seen it before.
In one of my father's photographs.
The same pendant was around Evelyn's neck.
I called Laura.
She answered half asleep.
“What happened?”
“I found her.”
“Found who?”
“Evelyn's daughter.”
There was silence.
“Are you sure?”
“I think so.”
“Send me the photograph.”
I did.
Thirty seconds later, Laura called back.
“Jennifer.”
“What?”
“I ran the image through the records.”
“And?”
“She isn't just Evelyn's daughter.”
I held my breath.
“Then who is she?”
Laura's voice dropped.
“Her name is Rebecca Hart.”
I waited.
“She's twenty-three.”
“So?”
“So she was born exactly nine months after Daniel's relationship with Evelyn began.”
I closed my eyes.
“And?”
“There's more.”
“What?”
“She has a second surname.”
My heart pounded.
“What is it?”
Laura hesitated.
“Vale.”
I froze.
My father's surname.
The same surname I had been born with before marriage.
I stared at the photograph.
Rebecca Vale.
Evelyn's daughter.
Possibly Daniel's.
And somehow connected to my father.
Then another message arrived.
This time there was no photograph.
Only five words.
Ask Daniel who her father is.
I stared at the screen.
And for the first time, the DNA result didn't feel like the end of a secret.
It felt like the beginning of a much bigger one.
Because Daniel hadn't just been hiding an affair.
May you like
He might have been hiding a daughter.
And my father might have known exactly where she was.
