Chapter 8: The Second DNA Test
I didn't speak.
Rebecca's words seemed to hang in the air between us, impossible to understand and impossible to ignore.
"The second test was about you?"" I finally asked.
"Yes.""
"Why would Ethan test your DNA?""
"He didn't test mine directly. He tested a sample that had been collected during my medical examination after Lily was born. He compared it with another sample.""
"Whose sample?""
Rebecca hesitated.
"Yours, Claire.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"That's impossible. I've never given Ethan a DNA sample.""
"You gave him one without knowing it.""
I thought of the medical paperwork I'd signed years earlier when Ethan and I had undergone fertility testing. We'd wanted children, but after two miscarriages and years of failed treatments, we'd eventually stopped trying.
Ethan had told me the clinic had destroyed the samples.
My mouth went dry.
"The fertility clinic?""
"Yes.""
I closed my eyes.
For eleven years, I'd carried the private grief of never becoming a mother. Ethan had held me through every negative test, every doctor's appointment, every birthday that reminded me another year had passed.
He'd told me we were enough.
He'd told me we could build a beautiful life without children.
Now I wondered whether those comforting words had been another part of a story he wanted me to believe.
"Rebecca," I whispered, "what did the test show?""
"That you and I are biologically related.""
I gripped the desk.
"How?""
"Claire, I don't know everything. I only know what Victor told me before he disappeared. He said there was a connection between you, the clinic, and a child who had been placed for adoption years ago.""
My heart pounded.
"A child?""
"Yes.""
I thought of my mother, who had died eight years earlier. I thought of the boxes of family photographs she'd left in my attic, the sealed envelope I'd found among her papers after the funeral, and the one conversation we'd had when I was twenty-one.
She had told me there were things about my birth she would explain when I was older.
I'd assumed she meant the ordinary secrets every family kept.
She never explained.
She died before I asked again.
"Did Victor know my family?"" I asked.
"He knew your mother.""
The room seemed to fall away.
"How?""
"Your mother worked with his family years ago. I don't know the details. Victor said he found your name in records connected to the fertility clinic, and he believed Ethan had used those records to manipulate the trust.""
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
"Why would Ethan care about my birth?""
"Because the trust wasn't created for Lily alone.""
Rebecca's voice dropped.
"It was created to protect a child who had been promised money by someone who believed that child would never be found.""
I stared at the DNA report on my laptop.
"Who is the child?""
"I don't know her current name.""
"Her?""
"That's what Victor told me.""
I struggled to breathe.
"Rebecca, are you saying I have a sister?""
"I think so.""
The words landed with such force that I had to sit down.
I had grown up an only child. My mother had told me that she had miscarried before I was born, and my father had died when I was nineteen. There had never been another child in our house, never a sibling at Christmas, never anyone who shared my childhood memories.
A sister.
Somewhere, there might be a woman who shared my blood, my mother's face, and the family history I thought I understood.
And Ethan had known.
"How long has he known?"" I asked.
"At least a year.""
I looked at the date on the report.
March 14.
"Why did he hide it?""
"Because he was afraid of what would happen if you found out who your mother really was.""
Before I could ask more, someone knocked on the office door.
I turned.
Margaret stood in the doorway.
She looked at the phone in my hand.
"Is that Rebecca?""
I nodded.
Margaret closed the door behind her.
"Put her on speaker.""
I hesitated.
"Why?""
"Because I need to ask her something.""
Rebecca heard her voice.
"Margaret?""
"Yes.""
A long silence followed.
Then Margaret asked, "Did Victor ever tell you what happened to the original trust documents?""
Rebecca's voice became cold.
"You know what happened to them.""
Margaret went pale.
"I need to hear it from you.""
"You helped Ethan move them.""
"I never knew what they contained.""
"You signed the witness statement.""
"I signed what Ethan told me was a routine administrative document.""
"Exactly.""
Margaret lowered herself into a chair.
For the first time, she looked genuinely afraid.
Rebecca continued.
"Victor discovered that the trust had been altered. Someone had changed the beneficiary and replaced the original guardian information. He found out that the company was using Claire's identity to secure a loan against the trust assets.""
I stared at Margaret.
"Is that true?""
She didn't answer.
Rebecca spoke again.
"Victor took the original documents because he knew they were the only proof. Ethan wanted them back. He told Victor he could fix the paperwork, but Victor refused.""
"And then he disappeared," I whispered.
"Yes.""
I looked at Margaret.
"Did you know?""
She shook her head, but tears were gathering in her eyes.
"I knew there was a trust. I knew Ethan had asked me to verify some paperwork. I did not know he'd changed the beneficiary.""
"Who was the original beneficiary?""
Rebecca answered before Margaret could.
"Your sister.""
I closed my eyes.
"What's her name?""
"I don't know what name she uses now. Victor found the adoption record, but the file was incomplete. He only knew that she had been born in the same hospital as you, eighteen months after you.""
My mind raced through every memory of my mother.
Every birthday conversation.
Every box of old photographs.
Every time she had gone quiet when I asked whether she wished she'd had more children.
Had she given a child away?
Had she been forced to?
Had she kept the secret because she was ashamed, or because someone had threatened her?
"Where is the original trust?"" I asked.
"At Northbridge," Rebecca said.
"That's why I told you to go there.""
"The police say someone accessed the unit yesterday.""
"Then you need to get there before they destroy what's left.""
Margaret stood abruptly.
"Claire, don't go.""
I looked at her.
"Why?""
"Because I think I know who accessed it.""
She reached into her handbag and removed a small piece of paper.
A handwritten receipt.
The date was yesterday.
The signature at the bottom belonged to Daniel Whitmore.
I stared at it.
"Daniel?""
Margaret nodded.
"He asked me to help him locate the unit last week. He said he wanted evidence of Ethan's affair.""
My stomach tightened.
Daniel had spent the afternoon looking like a man who had just discovered his wife was unfaithful. He'd removed his wedding ring and placed it beside the wineglasses. He'd refused to touch Brooke.
But he had also known about the storage unit.
And someone had accessed it the previous evening.
I looked toward the kitchen.
Daniel was standing beside the sink, staring out the window.
"Why would he go there?"" I asked.
Margaret's voice was barely audible.
"Because he knew about Victor before any of us did.""
I walked into the kitchen.
Daniel turned as I entered.
"Claire? What's wrong?""
I held up the receipt.
"Why did you access the Northbridge storage unit yesterday?""
His face went blank.
Then his eyes moved toward the hallway.
"I can explain.""
I almost laughed at the familiar words.
"That's what everyone keeps saying.""
Daniel set down his glass of water.
"Victor contacted me six months ago.""
Brooke, who had been sitting silently at the dining table, shot to her feet.
"What?""
Daniel looked at her.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't trust you.""
"You didn't trust me?""
"You were already lying to me.""
He turned back to me.
"Victor told me Ethan was involved in the missing money. He asked me to help protect Rebecca and Lily. I agreed because I thought he was trying to save his family.""
"Then why didn't you tell the police?""
"Because Victor said someone inside the investigation was compromised.""
Detective Mitchell appeared in the doorway.
"Who told you that?""
Daniel froze.
She had returned without any of us hearing her enter.
He looked at her, then at me.
"I don't know the person's name.""
"Then tell me why you accessed the unit yesterday.""
Daniel swallowed.
"Victor gave me a key. He said the original documents were inside. I went there to retrieve them.""
"Did you find them?""
"No.""
"Then what did you find?""
He reached into his jacket and removed a small black notebook.
"I found this hidden behind a loose panel.""
He placed it on the table.
The cover was worn, and the pages had been damp at some point. A name had been written inside the front cover.
*EVELYN BENNETT.*
My mother's name.
Detective Mitchell opened the notebook carefully.
The first page contained a list of dates, payments, and names.
The second page contained a handwritten note.
If anything happens to me, the truth belongs to Claire.
I stared at the words.
Then I noticed the final entry.
Dated March 14.
*11:38 p.m. — Ethan has the second sample. If he confirms the match, he will know which daughter is still alive.*
My skin went cold.
I looked at Daniel.
"What does that mean?""
He shook his head.
"I don't know.""
But Detective Mitchell was staring at the notebook as though she'd just found the missing piece of a puzzle.
She turned to Margaret.
"Do you recognize this handwriting?""
Margaret leaned closer.
Her lips parted.
"Yes.""
"Whose is it?""
Margaret lifted her eyes toward me.
"Victor Sloane's.""
Before anyone could speak, the front door slammed.
Ethan was gone.
On the kitchen counter, beneath his abandoned coffee cup, lay a folded note.
I opened it.
Claire, I'm sorry. If you want to know the truth about your sister, come to the garage alone.
Beneath the words was a time.
*11:38 p.m.*
May you like
And one final sentence.
Bring the DNA report.
