Chapter 8 - The DNA Test
There are sentences that make you angry.
There are sentences that make you afraid.
And then there are sentences that make the world stop.
Ethan isn't your son.
I had heard those words before.
But never like this.
Not attached to my name.
Not attached to Rachel.
Not attached to fourteen years of memories.
I sat at the kitchen table until sunrise.
Ethan was asleep upstairs.
Scout was curled beside his bedroom door.
Every part of me wanted to reject the claim immediately.
But another part remembered Rachel's recording.
David, I'm sorry.
I called Lauren.
She arrived at seven.
I told her everything.
She listened.
Then she said,
“Do you want a DNA test?”
I looked at her.
“I already know Ethan is my son.”
“That isn't the question.”
I understood.
“Do it.”
The test was performed that afternoon.
While we waited, Detective Cole discovered another piece of information.
Peter Lawson had transferred $1.8 million through three shell companies.
Two were connected to Melissa.
One was connected to a man named Michael Carter.
Rachel's half-brother.
Dead two years ago.
Except the account had been active last month.
That was impossible.
Or it meant Michael wasn't dead.
Jonathan refused to answer my calls.
Then Daniel appeared at my house.
He stood on the porch wearing a dark coat.
“I told you to trust me.”
I let him inside.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about Ethan.”
“I knew there was a question.”
“Is he my son?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Biologically?”
“Yes.”
“I don't know.”
I grabbed his arm.
“Then find out.”
He didn't resist.
“David, Rachel never doubted that you were Ethan's father.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“No.”
“What did she know?”
“That someone wanted you to doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Because if you're not Ethan's biological father, they can challenge your parental rights.”
The guardianship plan.
I understood.
“They want me out.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you're the only person standing between them and the trust.”
I looked at him.
“Who are they?”
Daniel's eyes hardened.
“Peter.”
“And?”
“Michael.”
My blood froze.
“You said Michael was dead.”
Daniel shook his head.
“That was the story.”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Daniel.”
“He disappeared two years ago.”
“Why?”
“He was supposed to testify against Peter.”
“Then why fake his death?”
“Because someone wanted him dead.”
I sat down.
“Rachel knew?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know Michael was alive?”
“She suspected.”
The doorbell rang.
Detective Cole stood outside.
“Mr. Carter.”
He handed me an envelope.
“The DNA results.”
My hands shook.
I opened it.
I read the first line.
Then the second.
Then the conclusion.
Probability of biological paternity:
99.9998%.
I closed my eyes.
Ethan was my son.
No matter what anyone said.
I looked at Daniel.
“Now we find Michael.”
But before we could leave, my phone rang.
Melissa.
From jail.
I answered.
“Why are you calling me?”
“I heard about the DNA test.”
“How?”
“You still don't understand how much access Peter has.”
“What do you want?”
“To save your son.”
“You tried to poison him.”
“I tried to make him sick.”
“That's supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
Her voice changed.
“Listen to me.”
I stayed silent.
“Peter is going to kill Michael.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael has the original ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The one proving who ordered Rachel's death.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
Melissa whispered,
“Peter.”
The call ended.
I looked at Cole.
“We need to find Michael.”
We traced the account.
An old storage facility.
Unit 318.
We arrived with police.
The lock was already broken.
Inside were boxes.
Documents.
Photographs.
A laptop.
And blood on the floor.
Cole drew his weapon.
“Everyone stay back.”
We searched.
No body.
No Michael.
But there was a note.
HE LEFT FOR THE OLD COTTAGE.
Jonathan recognized the address.
“My father owned it.”
We drove there.
The cottage sat beside a lake.
Empty.
Windows broken.
Door unlocked.
Inside, we found Michael.
Alive.
Barely.
He was lying beneath a blanket.
His face was bruised.
He looked at Daniel.
Then at me.
“Rachel was right.”
“What happened?”
“Peter found me.”
“Where is he?”
Michael coughed.
“Coming.”
“Here?”
He nodded.
Then headlights appeared outside.
Three vehicles.
Cole shouted,
“Everyone down!”
Gunfire shattered the windows.
I pulled Ethan's photograph from my pocket.
I had brought it without realizing.
Rachel's handwriting was visible on the back.
Protect my son.
I held it tightly.
Then Michael grabbed my arm.
“David.”
“What?”
“Peter isn't working for Melissa.”
I looked at him.
“She's working for him.”
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Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Peter is working for someone else.”
