Chapter 6 — The DNA Test
Daniel was waiting outside the hospital.
I saw him before he saw me.
His black sedan sat beneath a dead streetlamp across from the emergency entrance, engine running, headlights off. The windows were dark enough that I could only see the vague outline of a man behind the steering wheel.
My attorney noticed him a second later.
“So that’s him?”
“Yes.”
Laura stopped walking.
Her face changed immediately.
Fear.
Not the ordinary fear of seeing someone you disliked.
The kind of fear that lived in the body.
She gripped the strap of her purse and whispered, “He knows.”
I looked at her.
“Knows what?”
“That I gave you the footage.”
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated.
Daniel.
You should have stayed home.
I stared at the message.
Then another appeared.
You don't know what you're getting yourself into.
I didn't reply.
My attorney stepped closer.
“Don't engage with him.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“You're sure?”
I looked across the street at the black car.
For months, Daniel had believed fear was something he could manufacture inside me.
Fear of losing our marriage.
Fear of embarrassing our families.
Fear of raising a child alone.
Fear of money.
Fear of what people would say.
But something had changed.
I was still afraid.
I simply wasn't afraid of him anymore.
“Let's go,” I said.
We walked toward my car.
Daniel didn't move.
He didn't follow us.
That almost frightened me more.
Because Daniel had always been predictable when angry.
He argued.
He threatened.
He apologized.
He bought flowers.
He lied.
Then he repeated the cycle.
That night, he did none of those things.
He simply watched.
And I knew he was waiting for me to make a mistake.
I wasn't going to give him one.
By the time I got home, Lily was asleep.
My mother had picked her up from the babysitter and brought her back to the house.
She was curled inside her crib, one tiny fist resting beside her cheek.
I stood there for several minutes without touching her.
The room was dark except for the soft night-light near the dresser.
She looked peaceful.
Completely unaware that the adults around her had spent weeks turning her existence into a battlefield.
I leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered.
Lily stirred.
Her eyes opened for half a second.
Then she went back to sleep.
I walked into the kitchen.
My attorney was already there, reviewing the documents we had collected.
Laura had gone home with a promise that she would remain available.
I poured myself a glass of water.
My hands were shaking.
My attorney noticed.
“You're holding up better than most people would.”
“I don't feel like I'm holding up.”
“You are.”
I sat across from her.
“There's something we haven't answered.”
She looked up.
“The baby?”
I nodded.
“The photograph.”
She didn't speak.
I pulled my phone from my purse and opened Chloe's picture.
The newborn lay beneath a pale pink blanket.
Dark hair.
Tiny mouth.
Closed eyes.
And beneath the left ear—
That mark.
The same place Lily had a small reddish birthmark.
I turned the phone toward my attorney.
“That's not coincidence.”
“We don't know that.”
“You saw Lily.”
“I did.”
“You saw the mark.”
“Yes.”
“And Chloe's baby has the same one.”
My attorney folded her hands.
“Jennifer, resemblance isn't proof.”
“I know.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Then let's get proof.”
She understood immediately.
“DNA?”
“Yes.”
Her expression became cautious.
“Whose?”
“Lily's and Daniel's.”
She hesitated.
“Daniel may refuse.”
“I don't need his permission.”
“You'll need a legally admissible test if you want to use the result in court.”
“I don't care about court yet.”
I looked toward the hallway where Lily was sleeping.
“I need to know.”
My attorney nodded slowly.
“Then we can arrange a private test.”
I swallowed.
“And Chloe's baby?”
“That is more complicated.”
“I know.”
“We would need cooperation from Chloe or a legally obtained sample.”
I looked down at my phone.
Chloe.
The woman who had been sleeping with my husband.
The woman who had accepted thousands of dollars from him.
The woman who had apparently been carrying his child.
And somehow, she had become the person who might know more about my daughter's life than I did.
I hated that.
But hatred wasn't useful.
Truth was.
“Find a way,” I said.
The next morning, Daniel came to my house.
I didn't let him inside.
He stood on the front porch in the same expensive suit he had worn to the baptism.
The suit looked different now.
Or maybe he did.
His face was tired.
His eyes were red.
He held a small paper bag.
“I brought breakfast.”
“I don't want it.”
“Jennifer.”
“No.”
He sighed.
“We need to talk.”
“We've been talking for years.”
His jaw tightened.
“Can I at least see Lily?”
I stepped slightly into the doorway.
“She’s sleeping.”
“I’m her father.”
“I know.”
He looked surprised by the answer.
Then his expression softened.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For finally admitting that.”
I almost laughed.
“You've never been denied that.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he lowered his voice.
“I know what you think.”
“I doubt that.”
“You think I had an affair with Chloe. You think I fathered her baby. You think I stole money from our family.”
“You did.”
His mouth tightened.
“Some of those things are more complicated than they look.”
“Everything is complicated when you're trying to explain a lie.”
He looked past me into the house.
“Jennifer, please.”
“Go home.”
“I can fix this.”
“You've been saying that since the day I met you.”
He took a step forward.
I didn't move.
He stopped.
“Let's make a deal.”
I stared at him.
“What kind?”
“I'll give you money.”
I felt something inside me go cold.
“How much?”
“Whatever you need.”
I almost smiled.
“You think this is about money?”
“I know you're angry.”
“No.”
“You're hurt.”
“No.”
“You want security for Lily.”
I stared at him.
“You still don't understand.”
His expression hardened.
“Then what do you want?”
“The truth.”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
That tiny hesitation.
That invisible calculation.
He was deciding which lie to tell next.
I stepped closer.
“Is Lily your daughter?”
His eyes met mine.
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly.
Too instantly.
I watched him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then take a DNA test.”
Silence.
His face went blank.
“What?”
“A DNA test.”
“Jennifer—”
“Between you and Lily.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“Why?”
“Because you told me she was your daughter.”
“I don't have to prove that to you.”
“No?”
His voice became sharper.
“She's my daughter.”
“Then proving it should take less than a day.”
He stared at me.
I waited.
Finally he said, “This is ridiculous.”
“Then do it.”
“You're letting all of this get inside your head.”
“Do it.”
“Jennifer.”
“Or are you afraid of the answer?”
His face went pale.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Daniel turned away.
“I won't participate in some insane test because you're spiraling.”
There it was.
Not an answer.
A refusal.
I closed the door.