Chapter 5 - THE FIRST DNA TESTNathan denied it.
Not calmly.
Not convincingly.
He denied it with the panicked anger of someone whose body reacted before his mind built the lie.
“That never happened.”
Rosa watched him.
“I saw the invoice.”
“You saw something you misunderstood.”
“Then why did Victoria pay to have the records destroyed?”
Mother snapped, “Enough.”
Nathan turned toward her.
“You told me there was no record.”
The room went silent.
Nathan realized what he’d said.
I stared at him.
“No record of what?”
He looked at Mother.
She closed her eyes.
That was the moment I knew my brother had been lying.
Not about everything.
But enough.
“Nathan.”
He walked toward the windows.
“Eight years ago, Mother called me.”
His voice sounded hollow.
“She said there had been a problem at the clinic.”
Claire hugged herself tighter.
“What problem?”
“She didn’t tell me details. She said there was uncertainty regarding the donor sample.”
“Donor?” I said.
“She used that word.”
“You knew another man’s genetic material was used.”
“I suspected.”
I moved toward him.
“You looked me in the eye in the carriage house and said you knew nothing.”
“I didn’t know it was Grandfather.”
“You knew Oliver might not be mine.”
“Yes.”
One word.
Eight years of betrayal compressed into a single syllable.
I hit him.
I’m not proud of it.
But I hit him.
My fist connected with his jaw, and he stumbled into the table.
Rebecca shouted.
Claire grabbed my arm.
Nathan straightened.
Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He didn’t hit me back.
“That was deserved,” he said.
I nearly hit him again.
Claire stepped between us.
“Daniel.”
I backed away.
Oliver was still asleep in Rebecca’s arms.
Thank God.
“Continue,” I said.
Nathan wiped his mouth.
“Mother asked for a DNA test after Oliver was born.”
“Why you?”
He hesitated.
Then Mother answered.
“Because Nathan’s sample was accessible.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Her expression became impatient.
“We needed to establish whether the clinic had accidentally used one of the stored family samples.”
“One of whose stored samples?”
No answer.
Rosa spoke.
“The company maintained genetic samples from several Ashford family members.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“A longevity project Charles funded.”
Of course.
Only my family would collect its own DNA as though preparing for the apocalypse.
Mother continued.
“The first comparison showed Nathan was not Oliver’s father.”
Claire’s face twisted.
“You secretly tested my newborn?”
Mother ignored her.
“After that, Keller told me he had used Charles’s sample exactly as instructed.”
There it was.
As instructed.
Not a mistake.
Nathan looked at her with disgust.
“You told me it had been a clinic error.”
“I protected you.”
“From what?”
“From this.”
Mother gestured around the room.
“From a secret you had no need to carry.”
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“You made me think I could have been Oliver’s father.”
My stomach turned.
I looked between them.
“Why would he think that?”
Nobody answered.
Then Claire did.
She turned toward Nathan.
Her face was white.
“No.”
Nathan wouldn’t look at her.
Claire whispered, “No.”
I felt suddenly detached from my own body.
“What?”
Claire shook her head.
“Daniel…”
“What?”
Nathan spoke.
“Before you and Claire were married…”
“Stop,” Claire said.
He continued anyway.
“We slept together once.”
The room tilted.
I stared at my wife.
She looked as though someone had cut her open.
“Daniel, it was before our wedding.”
“How long before?”
“Four years.”
Nathan corrected her.
“Three.”
Claire looked at him furiously.
“It happened once.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“When?”
She swallowed.
“You and I had broken up.”
Memory crashed back.
We had dated in college.
Then separated for six months when I moved to California.
We reconciled later.
I had never known.
“You slept with my brother.”
Tears ran down her face.
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
I looked at Nathan.
“Yes.”
“Obviously.”
“No. Did you know when I married her?”
He looked away.
“Yes.”
That hurt differently.
My entire family seemed built from rooms I had never been allowed to enter.
Claire stepped toward me.
“I wanted to tell you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I was ashamed.”
“Why?”
“Because by the time we reconciled, I knew you hated Nathan. I knew it would hurt you.”
“So you protected me.”
The phrase had become poisonous.
She flinched.
“I was twenty-five.”
“And for thirteen years?”
“I was afraid.”
I laughed once.
Every person in the room had apparently lied because they were afraid.
My mother because she feared losing bloodline control.
Nathan because he feared consequences.
Claire because she feared losing me.
Grandfather because he feared releasing information without evidence.
And I had lived among them like an idiot.
Rosa stepped forward.
“There’s more to the original test.”
I wanted to scream at her.
Instead, I said, “Of course there is.”
“The laboratory compared Oliver to Nathan.”
“Yes.”
“But they didn’t simply determine he wasn’t the father.”
She looked at Nathan.
“They found a close familial relationship.”
Nathan went still.
“How close?”
Rosa removed another paper from her handbag.
“I only have part of the report.”
She handed it to me.
The page indicated Oliver and Nathan shared genetic markers consistent with…
half-sibling or avuncular relationship.
I read it twice.
If Charles was Oliver’s biological father, then Nathan was technically Oliver’s…
Half-brother.
My brother was my son’s half-brother.
The absurdity was almost unbearable.
But Rosa was focused on something else.
“There was another comparison.”
Mother said sharply, “Rosa.”
“With Victoria.”
My eyes moved to Mother.
“What did it show?”
Rosa hesitated.
“For the expected relationship between Victoria and Oliver, the numbers didn’t match.”
Mother looked toward the door.
Actually looked toward the door.
As though escape had become an option.
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
Rosa answered softly.
“It means Victoria may not be Charles Ashford’s biological daughter.”
Nobody spoke.
Nathan looked stunned.
Rebecca stood.
Mother whispered, “That report was contaminated.”
Rosa shook her head.
“That’s what you told Charles.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know he ordered another test before he died.”
Mother’s breathing changed.
Phillip Grant suddenly looked uncomfortable.
I turned to him.
“You have it.”
He removed his glasses.
“Phillip.”
“Daniel…”
“You have that test.”
He looked at Victoria.
Then at me.
“Yes.”
Mother walked toward him.
“You were specifically instructed—”
“By you,” he said.
“You are not my client.”
She stopped.
Phillip opened another section of the folder.
For a woman who had controlled everyone in the room for decades, my mother suddenly looked very small.
I watched the lawyer remove one page.
He handed it to Rebecca.
Perhaps because she was the least likely to throw it.
Rebecca read.
Her mouth opened slightly.
“What?” Nathan demanded.
She looked at Mother.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
Rebecca handed me the report.
Charles Ashford was excluded as Victoria’s biological father.
Probability:
0%.
I looked at the woman I had called Mother my entire life.
The bloodline she had manipulated.
The child she had engineered.
The inheritance she had protected.
All of it.
And she wasn’t even biologically an Ashford.
Mother lifted her chin.
“This changes nothing.”
Nathan started laughing.
Not because it was funny.
Because the alternative was probably screaming.
Mother glared at him.
“What exactly is amusing?”
“You.”
He wiped blood from his mouth.
“You spent our entire childhood talking about Ashford blood.”
“That has nothing to do with—”
“You violated Daniel and Claire to preserve a bloodline you don’t belong to.”
Mother slapped him.
Hard.
Nathan stopped laughing.
Rebecca whispered, “Who was your father?”
Mother said nothing.
Phillip looked at Rosa.
Rosa lowered her gaze.
And suddenly I understood.
Rosa knew.
“Who?”
The retired housekeeper breathed in slowly.
“His name was Thomas Bell.”
Mother’s face transformed.
Pure hatred.
May you like
Rosa continued.
“He was Charles Ashford’s chauffeur.”
Related Stories
