Chapter 8: The DNA Test
For the next several seconds, the only sound in my mother's house was the rain hitting the windows.
Then I heard Claire whisper, “No.””
She looked at Marcus, her expression twisting with horror.
“Tell me she's wrong.””
Marcus shook his head.
“She doesn't know what she's talking about.””
“Then why didn't you say that immediately?”” I demanded.
“Because I don't know.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“You don't know whether we're related?””
“I know the records are incomplete. I know there were three babies. I know my mother lied about the adoption. But I don't know whether you and I share a biological parent.””
I stared at him.
“You've been planning to marry me without knowing whether we might be siblings?””
“No! That's not what I meant.””
“Then explain it!””
Marcus dragged both hands down his face.
“Victoria believes you might be connected to Eleanor. She told me years ago that Eleanor had a child before she died. She thought that child might have been adopted by another family.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I didn't have proof.””
I looked toward Dr. Whitmore.
“Can you prove it?””
The doctor nodded slowly.
“A DNA test could establish whether you share a biological parent.””
“Then we're doing one.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“Nia, you need to understand something. If we're related—”
“If we're related, this engagement is over. If we're not, this engagement is still over. Either way, I'm done letting you decide what I deserve to know.””
I turned toward Claire.
“Are you willing?””
She nodded immediately.
“I've spent my entire life wondering where I came from. I'm not walking away now.””
Dr. Whitmore took out his phone.
“I know a private laboratory that can conduct expedited testing. We can collect samples tonight.””
“No,” I said.
“A private laboratory you choose isn't good enough.””
He looked startled.
“I have no reason to manipulate the results.””
“Maybe not. But you've already admitted to participating in an illegal transfer and hiding a child's identity. You'll understand if I don't take your word for anything.””
Claire nodded.
“We'll choose the laboratory ourselves.””
Within an hour, we were at an independent testing center on the other side of town. Tessa had insisted on accompanying us, and for the first time since the engagement party, I was grateful to have someone beside me who wasn't connected to the secret.
The technician collected our samples and explained the process.
“Given the circumstances, we'll test for biological relationships among all three of you. The preliminary results should be available within twenty-four hours.””
“All three?”” I asked.
“Yes. You, Ms. Carter, and Ms. Reed.””
Claire squeezed my hand.
“Whatever it says, we'll deal with it together.””
I wanted to believe her.
But as I watched the technician seal our samples, I realized that even the truth might not give us our lives back.
Outside, Marcus was waiting near the entrance.
I'd told him not to follow us.
He looked at the ground when he saw me.
“I didn't know you were coming here.””
“Then how did you get here?””
He didn't answer.
I shook my head.
“Go home, Marcus.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because Victoria is missing.””
The words stopped me.
“What do you mean, missing?””
“She was supposed to meet me at the hotel tonight. She never arrived. Her phone is switched off, and her apartment is empty.””
Claire stepped forward.
“Did you contact the police?””
“Not yet.””
“Why not?””
Marcus hesitated.
“Because I received this.””
He showed us a message on his phone.
You have until midnight to return what you stole. After that, the truth about all three girls goes public.
Beneath the message was a photograph of a locked basement door.
I recognized the room immediately.
It was the basement of my childhood home.
My hands went cold.
“Where did you get this?””
“An unknown number sent it twenty minutes ago.””
I stared at the photograph.
Behind the basement door was the room my father had forbidden me to enter when I was little. He'd told me it was filled with old electrical equipment and dangerous chemicals.
When I was twelve, I'd tried to open it.
My father had caught me holding the key.
He'd taken it from my hand and said, with an expression I'd never forgotten, “Some doors stay closed because the people behind them are trying to protect you.””
I'd thought he was talking about the room.
Now I wasn't sure.
“What's in that basement?”” Claire asked.
“I don't know,” I whispered.
Marcus looked at me.
“Your father kept a second office down there. My mother told me once that he stored documents in a locked cabinet.””
I turned toward him.
“You've been to my childhood home?””
“Once. Your father invited me over after we started investigating the hospital records.””
“And you never mentioned the basement?””
“I didn't think it mattered.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course you didn't.””
I called my mother.
She answered immediately.
“Nia?””
“I'm coming over. Don't leave the house.””
“What happened?””
“Someone sent Marcus a photograph of Dad's basement.””
There was a long silence.
Then my mother whispered, “You mustn't open that door.””
My stomach dropped.
“Why?””
“Because your father told me never to let anyone see what was inside.””
“What's inside?””
She began to cry.
“Nia, please. I can't explain it over the phone.””
“Then I'll see you in ten minutes.””
I ended the call.
Claire and Tessa came with me.
Marcus followed.
My mother was waiting at the front door when we arrived. She looked as though she'd aged ten years overnight.
“I told you not to open it,” she said.
“I haven't opened anything.””
“Good.””
I pushed past her into the house.
“Give me the key.””
She shook her head.
“I don't have it.””
“Then who does?””
My mother stared at the floor.
“Your father gave it to someone he trusted.””
“Who?””
She looked toward Marcus.
“His father.””
Marcus froze.
“My father died three years ago.””
“Before he died, he returned the key to me. I hid it.””
“Where?””
My mother walked to the living room and lifted a framed photograph from the mantelpiece.
Behind it was a small envelope.
She handed it to me.
Inside was a brass key and a handwritten note.
If the truth becomes dangerous, open the room. If the truth becomes unbearable, burn everything.
I looked at my mother.
“Which one are we dealing with?””
She couldn't answer.
We descended the narrow staircase to the basement.
The air smelled of dust and damp wood. At the end of the corridor stood a heavy steel door.
I inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Inside was a small office filled with filing cabinets, boxes, and shelves of medical records. A desk stood beneath a bare bulb.
On top of it sat a laptop and a thick red folder.
I opened the folder.
The first page was a list of names.
Evelyn Carter.
Robert Carter.
Daniel Whitmore.
Margaret Reed.
Samuel Whitmore.
And beneath them, written in my father's handwriting, were three names.
Nia Carter.
Claire Reed.
Victoria Whitmore.
Beside each name was a date of birth.
Beneath Victoria's name, someone had written a single sentence.
The third child was never meant to survive.
I heard Claire gasp behind me.
My mother began sobbing.
Marcus grabbed the edge of the desk.
I turned to the next page.
It contained a copy of an original birth certificate, signed by Dr. Whitmore.
Three infants had been delivered that night.
But the final line was what made my knees buckle.
*Biological father: Marcus Reed Sr.*
I stared at the name.
Marcus's father.
The man who had died three years earlier.
The man who had helped arrange Claire's adoption.
The man whose son I had nearly married.
I looked up at Marcus.
He was staring at the page, his face utterly white.
Then the laptop on the desk chimed.
A video file had opened automatically.
My father's face appeared on the screen.
He looked older than I remembered, his cheeks hollow and his eyes shadowed by exhaustion.
He leaned toward the camera.
“If you're watching this, then the children have finally found one another.””
He paused.
Then he said the words that shattered everything.
“I'm sorry, Nia. I lied to you about who your father was.””
He looked directly into the camera.
“And Marcus Reed's father was not the only man responsible for what happened that night.””
The screen flickered.
My father's voice dropped.
May you like
“The third child was taken because one of the girls was never supposed to be born.””
Then the video ended.
