Chapter 2 - The Missing Page
I drove Lily home without speaking.
She sat in the back seat wrapped in my coat.
Every few minutes, I looked at her through the rearview mirror.
She was staring out the window.
That scared me more than crying would have.
Lily normally filled every car ride with questions.
Why clouds moved.
Why dogs couldn’t talk.
Why adults drank coffee if it tasted “angry.”
That afternoon, she said nothing.
When we reached our house, she finally asked one question.
“Mommy, was Grandma mad because I was born wrong?”
I nearly stopped breathing.
I turned around in my seat.
“No.”
I reached for her hand.
“You were never born wrong.”
“Then why doesn’t she want me?”
There are questions mothers should never have to answer.
I forced my voice to stay steady.
“Sometimes grown-ups make ugly choices because of things inside themselves.”
“Did I make her ugly?”
“No.”
I squeezed her hand.
“None of this came from you.”
That night, Lily slept beside me.
Daniel called nineteen times.
I answered on the twentieth.
“What?”
His voice sounded wrecked.
“I’m outside.”
I looked toward the bedroom window.
His truck was parked at the curb.
“You’re not coming in.”
“I know.”
That surprised me.
“I just need to tell you something.”
I stepped into the hallway and closed Lily’s door.
“What?”
“Mark took part of the report.”
My stomach tightened.
“I saw him.”
There was silence.
Then Daniel said something I wasn’t expecting.
“He says the lab made a mistake.”
“What kind of mistake?”
“I don’t know.”
“You read the conclusion.”
“I know.”
“Then what does Mark think is wrong?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Apparently the report contains a genetic comparison note.”
I remembered seeing something near the bottom of the second page.
I had been so focused on the paternity result that I hadn’t read every line.
“What note?”
“Claire, I need you to call the lab tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because Mark says the markers don’t just establish that I’m Lily’s father.”
Daniel took a breath.
“They show a close paternal-family relationship to another sample already in their system.”
I frowned.
“What other sample?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
The next morning, I called the laboratory.
The receptionist transferred me twice.
Eventually, a genetic counselor named Dr. Owen Pierce came on the line.
He verified my identity.
Then his tone became cautious.
“Mrs. Hayes, the notation is unusual, but not necessarily concerning.”
“What does it mean?”
“The laboratory identified a partial familial match between your daughter’s paternal profile and a previously archived sample.”
“Whose sample?”
“I’m unable to release that without authorization.”
“Was the sample Daniel’s?”
“No.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Mark’s?”
“I cannot confirm the identity.”
But he didn’t need to.
His hesitation was enough.
I called Mark immediately.
He didn’t answer.
Jessica did.
Her voice was low.
“Claire, don’t call Mark again.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s losing his mind.”
“About a DNA test?”
Jessica was silent.
Then she whispered something that made my skin go cold.
“Margaret has been terrified of DNA testing for years.”
I looked toward the stairs.
“What are you talking about?”
“When Caleb was born, Mark wanted one of those ancestry tests.”
Jessica swallowed.
“Margaret offered him ten thousand dollars not to do it.”
I said nothing.
“She claimed she hated those companies storing family data.”
“That doesn’t explain this.”
“No.”
Jessica’s voice dropped even lower.
“But last night, after everyone left, I heard Margaret tell Mark something.”
“What?”
“She said, ‘If Claire digs into that match, she’ll destroy all of us.’”
Before I could respond, someone spoke in the background.
Jessica gasped.
The call ended.
Three minutes later, a text appeared on my screen.
May you like
It came from Jessica.
Don’t trust Daniel until you know who his father really was.
