Chapter 4 - Two Sons
Twins.
That was my first thought.
Hidden twin pregnancy.
Absurd, but less absurd than anything else.
“No,” Evelyn said.
Only one fetus had ever been visible.
Then whose child was in the photograph?
Evelyn handed Julian a laboratory report.
DNA probability of paternity:
99.99%.
Father:
Julian Mercer.
Mother:
Unknown.
The baby photographed six days earlier was biologically Julian’s son.
So was the baby in my arms, according to an emergency test ordered that morning after Evelyn noticed the missing birthmark.
Julian had two newborn sons.
Born six days apart.
From two different mothers.
I stared at him.
“Did you cheat on me?”
“No.”
He answered too quickly.
I watched his face.
“Julian.”
“I never slept with anyone.”
Evelyn whispered:
“I believe him.”
I almost laughed.
“How convenient.”
Then she explained.
Years earlier, before we married, Julian had frozen reproductive samples during a medical procedure.
He told me once.
A routine precaution after surgery.
He thought the remaining samples had been destroyed.
Apparently not.
Dr. Vale’s clinic retained them.
Without Julian’s knowledge.
Someone used one.
I felt nauseated.
“For what?”
Evelyn whispered:
“To produce another heir.”
The Mercer trust was scheduled to undergo verification upon Julian’s fortieth birthday.
He was thirty-eight.
If Julian had no qualifying male child, voting control shifted to another branch of the family.
His uncle Gregory’s line.
Julian desperately wanted a son partly because he genuinely dreamed of one.
But beneath that dream was something he never told me:
His father had trained him from childhood to believe that failing to produce a Mercer-marked boy would mean losing the family company.
“You knew?”
I asked.
Julian looked down.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“My whole life.”
“You let me have pregnancy after pregnancy because of a trust?”
His eyes filled.
“I wanted our children.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Silence.
That answer hurt.
Then I looked at our four daughters.
Every one of them suddenly seemed like a child who had unknowingly taken part in an inheritance exam.
Sophie was crying.
“Daddy, do you not want us?”
Julian broke.
He crossed the room and knelt.
“No. Never think that.”
“You always wanted a boy.”
“I wanted you too.”
“But you were sad.”
Children always know.
Julian covered his face.
I hated him for making her notice.
Then the newborn began crying.
Evelyn approached.
I pulled him closer.
“No.”
She stopped.
“Where is the other baby?” I asked.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“That’s why I came.”
“Where?”
“He disappeared from Vale’s clinic this morning.”
Julian went still.
“Who took him?”
Evelyn looked at me.
“According to the security record…”
May you like
She swallowed.
“You did.”
