Chapter 6 - The Second Test
I did not send Lily to school.
I called Daniel instead.
He arrived within twenty minutes.
The moment he saw the message, his face darkened.
“Mark.”
“Maybe.”
“You think Mom did this?”
“I think both of them are capable of more than I believed.”
Daniel picked up the report carefully.
“Why say the first test was wrong?”
“To create doubt.”
“Or because they’re planning to produce another one.”
That possibility became reality before noon.
Margaret posted publicly on Facebook.
She claimed I had attacked her at a family gathering after presenting a “privately manipulated DNA report.”
She said the family was seeking an independent test.
She did not mention the chain.
She did not mention Lily being outside.
She described herself as an elderly grandmother assaulted by an unstable daughter-in-law.
By lunchtime, relatives were calling Daniel.
By two, screenshots were circulating through our town.
Then Mark sent Daniel a message.
You want truth? Meet us at NorthStar Diagnostics tomorrow at 9.
Daniel showed me.
“Go.”
He stared at me.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“If they want another test, give them one.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“And Lily?”
“No.”
“They don’t touch her.”
A legitimate paternity test required her sample.
But Howard Bell had another solution.
Pierce Genetics could collect a new sample from Daniel and independently retest Lily’s original sealed specimen under third-party observation.
Margaret objected immediately.
She demanded a completely new sample.
That made me suspicious.
Very suspicious.
The next morning, Daniel went to NorthStar.
Mark was there.
Margaret was there.
Jessica was not.
A technician collected Daniel’s cheek swab.
Daniel watched the tube being sealed.
Then Margaret surprised everyone.
She produced a small evidence bag.
Inside was a child’s hairbrush.
“Lily left this at my house.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You want them to use hair from a brush?”
Margaret smiled.
“It contains roots.”
The technician explained that hair samples could sometimes be tested but contamination was possible.
Margaret insisted.
Daniel refused.
They argued.
Eventually, NorthStar agreed to compare Daniel’s sample against a preserved DNA specimen already on file from one of Lily’s prior pediatric screenings.
That surprised me.
I had never knowingly authorized genetic storage.
Neither had Daniel.
The technician searched their system.
Then his expression changed.
“There is a pediatric profile under Lily Hayes.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“From when?”
The technician read the screen.
“Four years ago.”
Daniel stared at Margaret.
Lily had been one year old.
Margaret looked genuinely surprised.
That was the first detail that made me question whether she had created it.
The technician printed the authorization record.
The signature belonged to Daniel.
Except Daniel swore he had never signed it.
The stored sample was tested.
The result came back twelve hours later.
Daniel called me from the lab.
His voice sounded empty.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“The second sample says I’m not Lily’s father.”
For several seconds, I could not speak.
Then I heard Margaret in the background.
“I told you.”
But something about the date kept bothering me.
Four years ago.
Lily had been one.
At one year old, Lily had been hospitalized overnight for dehydration.
Daniel had been out of town.
I had signed every form.
Or I thought I had.
I called the hospital.
The old records were archived.
A clerk emailed them that evening.
There it was.
A genetic specimen release form.
Signed by Daniel Hayes.
Witnessed by a hospital volunteer.
The volunteer’s name was Margaret Hayes.
And attached to the form was one detail nobody had noticed.
May you like
The patient number did not belong to Lily.
It belonged to another baby.
