Chapter 6 - The TestThe lab technician arrived the next morning.
Nia hated how ordinary she looked.
A pleasant woman carrying a sealed kit, identification forms, gloves, and sterile swabs.
No dramatic machinery.
No courtroom atmosphere.
Just paperwork.
Marcus arrived ten minutes earlier.
Alone.
That mattered.
Nia noticed.
He stood in Tasha’s living room, hands buried in the pocket of his navy hoodie.
“I told my mother not to come.”
Tasha, making coffee in the kitchen, said, “Congratulations on clearing the lowest possible bar.”
“Tasha.”
Nia’s voice was tired.
Her sister stopped.
Marcus looked toward the bassinet.
“How’s Noah?”
“He’s fine.”
“Can I see him?”
Nia nodded.
Marcus approached slowly.
Noah slept with one fist beside his face.
Marcus smiled despite everything.
For one second Nia saw the man she had loved without reservation.
Then she remembered the unsigned paperwork.
The technician explained the process.
Buccal swabs.
Chain-of-custody documentation.
Identification.
Samples from Marcus and Noah.
Nia’s sample was optional for the paternity determination, but the lab recommended a trio test when available.
“I’ll do it,” Nia said.
Marcus looked at her.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
The technician swabbed Noah gently.
He made a small offended sound.
Marcus instinctively leaned closer.
“It’s okay, little man.”
Nia watched him.
Something sharp moved through her chest.
Love did not disappear neatly when trust broke.
That would have been easier.
After the technician sealed the samples, she said results would likely be available within two to three business days.
Marcus signed the chain-of-custody form without hesitation.
Nia stared at his hand.
The same hand that had refused the hospital pen.
He noticed her watching.
His face changed.
The technician packed her materials.
When she left, Tasha took Noah into the bedroom.
Not because anyone asked.
Because she understood they needed privacy.
Marcus remained standing.
“I found those brochures.”
“I saw.”
“They were dated four months ago.”
Nia crossed her arms carefully.
“I saw that too.”
“And the note.”
“Before Nia finds the rest.”
Marcus swallowed.
“I asked Mom.”
“What did she say?”
“That she doesn’t remember writing it.”
Nia laughed softly.
“Convenient.”
“She said it might’ve been about you finding the screenshots.”
“Does that make sense to you?”
“No.”
The admission hung between them.
Marcus sat down.
“I need you to tell me everything about Adrian.”
Nia stared at him.
“Need?”
“Please.”
Better.
She explained the invoices.
D&W Property Services.
The mismatched jobs.
The payments.
The mailbox.
The residential address connected to Denise.
Marcus’s expression shifted from disbelief to anger.
“My mother wouldn’t steal from the company.”
Nia closed her eyes.
There it was.
She opened them again.
“You asked.”
“I’m not saying you’re lying.”
“You just said she wouldn’t do it before seeing a single record.”
“I know my mother.”
“You thought you knew me.”
Marcus went silent.
Nia hated how hard that landed.
He looked toward the hallway.
“What exactly are you accusing her of?”
“Nothing yet.”
“You hired a forensic accountant.”
“Because I didn’t want to accuse anyone without proof.”
“You hid meetings from me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because this.”
She gestured between them.
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“That’s not fair.”
“You questioned whether Noah was your son based on cropped screenshots your mother gave you.”
“I also saw you with Adrian.”
“And instead of asking me until you got an answer, you built a theory.”
“I did ask.”
“You asked, ‘Who was that?’ I said an accountant helping me with company records.”
“You said consultant.”
“He is.”
“You never said forensic.”
“Because I knew exactly what would happen when your mother’s name entered the conversation.”
Marcus stood.
“You don’t get to use my mistake now to justify months of secrecy.”
Nia stiffened.
“My mistake?”
He immediately regretted the phrase.
“Yes,” she said.
“Not what I meant.”
“Then what was it?”
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
“I handled this horribly.”
“You destroyed something.”
“I know.”
“No. You know I’m angry.”
Her voice shook.
“You don’t know what it felt like.”
Marcus stared at her.
“I was lying there holding Noah, feeling happier than I’ve ever felt, and you looked at me like I was evidence.”
His eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
Nia looked away.
“I believe you.”
He almost seemed relieved.
Then she added, “That doesn’t make it enough.”
Marcus sat again.
“What do you want from me?”
“Stop asking me that.”
“Why?”
“Because you keep looking for the assignment that gets you back to normal.”
He went still.
“There is no assignment.”
Nia picked up her phone.
“I’m sending you the D&W invoices.”
Marcus’s brows drew together.
“Why?”
“Because whether we stay married or not, that company belongs partly to you. You should know what’s happening.”
The words whether we stay married or not hit him visibly.
“Nia.”
She sent the files.
His phone buzzed.
He opened the first invoice.
Then the second.
Then the third.
The approving initials were the same on every document.
D.W.
Marcus looked up.
“Mom’s initials.”
“Denise Walker.”
He stared at the payments.
Then his face changed.
“What?”
Marcus zoomed in on one invoice.
“There’s a job number.”
“So?”
“That job never existed.”
Nia frowned.
“You’re sure?”
“I assign every field number.”
He opened another.
Another fake number.
Then another.
His breathing became shallow.
Nia watched him understand.
Not proof of theft.
But proof of fabrication.
Marcus whispered, “What the hell?”
His phone rang.
Denise.
He stared at the name.
Nia said nothing.
He answered.
“Mom.”
Denise’s voice was loud enough that Nia heard pieces.
Marcus’s face hardened.
“What do you mean the bank called?”
He stood.
“When?”
Pause.
“No. Don’t move anything.”
Another pause.
“I said don’t touch the account.”
Nia’s stomach dropped.
Marcus looked at her.
His face had gone pale.
He ended the call.
“What happened?” Nia asked.
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Marcus stared at the phone.
“She tried to transfer sixty thousand dollars out of Walker Restoration’s operating account this morning.”
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