Chapter 4 - The Test Ben Never Mentioned
Ben admitted it at noon.
I asked him directly.
“Did your mother DNA-test Ellie?”
His face told me everything.
“Rachel—”
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
I nearly threw the chair.
“Why?”
“Mom became convinced—”
“I don’t care what your mother became convinced of.”
“She thought Ellie wasn’t mine.”
“And you let her test our daughter?”
“I told her it was ridiculous.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He looked down.
“I agreed.”
The betrayal was quieter than Linda’s.
That made it worse.
Two years earlier, after Ellie’s birth, Linda started commenting on her appearance.
Wrong nose.
Wrong eyes.
Wrong hair.
I dismissed it.
Ben didn’t.
Eventually Linda convinced him I might have cheated.
So during the urgent-care visit, Linda obtained a cheek swab.
Ben supplied his own.
Paternity test.
“Result?”
Ben looked ashamed.
“I’m her father.”
Of course.
“Then why hide it?”
“Because I knew what agreeing to it would do to you.”
That sentence almost impressed me with its stupidity.
“You knew it would destroy my trust, so you concealed it?”
He had no answer.
Dad asked:
“Who performed the test?”
Ben gave him the name.
Mercer Diagnostics.
I stared.
“Your family owns that company.”
“Minority stake.”
Dad almost smiled.
“Wonderful.”
He requested the full report through my attorney authorization.
What arrived was strange.
The report confirmed Ben as Ellie’s biological father.
Probability greater than 99.99%.
But there was an additional comparison.
Unknown Female B.
I stared.
“What is that?”
Ben didn’t know.
The laboratory had compared Ellie’s DNA against another woman.
Why?
Dad called the lab.
No answer.
Then we examined the report metadata.
Requested by:
Gary Mercer.
Not Linda.
Gary.
My father leaned back.
“So Linda’s paternity obsession may have been cover.”
“For what?”
“Gary wanted Ellie compared against a woman.”
“Who?”
Unknown Female B.
Then Dana called.
She had searched her parents’ house while they were meeting attorneys.
In Gary’s locked office, she found a folder.
Photographs of me.
Not recent.
College.
High school.
One from when I was approximately ten.
Gary had been tracking me before I ever met Ben.
I felt sick.
“That’s impossible.”
Ben and I met at twenty-four.
But Gary had photographs from fourteen years earlier.
Then Dana sent one.
Me leaving middle school beside Dad.
On the back, handwritten:
RACHEL LAWSON — CONFIRMED.
Confirmed what?
Dad went silent.
“Dad?”
Nothing.
“Why do they have childhood photographs of me?”
He stood.
“Rachel, I need to make a call.”
“To who?”
He wouldn’t answer.
That frightened me more than the folder.
“Dad.”
He turned.
For the first time since the coffee incident, my father looked uncertain.
“There’s something about your mother I never told you.”
My mother, Caroline Lawson, died when I was eleven.
Cancer.
That was what I knew.
Dad sat again.
“Before she met me, Caroline had another name.”
“What name?”
“Caroline Mercer.”
My body went cold.
“Mercer?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Ben.
Then Dad.
“Related to Gary?”
Dad nodded.
“His younger sister.”
The room disappeared.
Ben whispered:
“That would make Rachel my…”
Dad shook his head quickly.
“Gary and Caroline were not biological siblings.”
Thank God.
But the relief lasted approximately two seconds.
Because Dad continued:
“Caroline was adopted.”
“By whom?”
“The Mercer family.”
I stared at Ellie’s DNA report.
Unknown Female B.
A woman Gary desperately wanted to compare against my daughter.
My mother?
“No.”
Dad shook his head.
“Caroline died before modern consumer DNA databases became common. But Gary kept some of her belongings.”
Hairbrush.
Old medical samples.
Anything possible.
Then Dad said:
“Rachel, your mother didn’t leave the Mercers because of a family disagreement.”
“Why did she leave?”
His expression darkened.
“She discovered where they got their money.”
“What money?”
Dad looked at Ben.
Then at me.
“Children.”
My stomach dropped.
“Explain.”
Before he could—
my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Linda.
Her voice was calm.
“Rachel, we need to stop this.”
“You threw coffee at my daughter.”
“She was never supposed to be there.”
I froze.
“What?”
Silence.
Then Linda realized what she had said.
The call ended.
Dad and I stared at each other.
May you like
Ellie had not been the intended target.
Someone else had.
