Chapter 13 - THE MAN I BURIED
I did not open the envelope immediately.
Two days earlier, I would have torn it apart.
Now I understood what DNA results could do.
They did not simply reveal facts.
They rewrote relationships.
Fathers became strangers.
Brothers appeared out of nowhere.
Children became evidence.
The paper in my hands might reshape another part of my life.
Dad watched me.
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I frowned.
He smiled weakly.
“Fear means you understand the weight.”
I sat beside him.
“Do you want me to open it?”
He thought for a long time.
“Yes.”
Luka stood near the window.
Samuel sat in the corner.
Dr. Sloan joined by video.
Agent Ortiz waited outside.
For once, there was no Ethan.
No Celeste.
No Elias.
Only people tied to the old secrets.
I opened the first packet.
Ethan Mercer.
Comparison to Dominic Moretti.
Probability of paternity.
0.00 percent.
I exhaled.
“Dominic was not Ethan’s father.”
Luka nodded slowly.
That matched Elias’s claim.
I opened the second page.
Comparison to Elias Mercer.
Probability.
99.99 percent.
Silence.
Luka closed his eyes.
Ethan and Luka were almost certainly paternal half-brothers if Mom’s recording about Luka was also correct.
Then I remembered the secondary packet.
Thomas Hayes.
My father.
I opened it.
The report compared Ethan to Dad.
Expected relationship.
Not parent-child.
Not sibling.
It showed a distant familial match.
Approximately second cousin.
I frowned.
“What?”
Dad leaned closer.
“I don’t understand.”
Dr. Sloan read the scan.
“This suggests Thomas and Elias may share ancestry.”
I looked at Dad.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
Samuel went pale.
“I might.”
We turned.
“What?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Our grandmother’s maiden name was Mercer.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Margaret and I grew up hearing there was some connection to the Mercer family.”
“Very distant.”
“No one cared.”
Luka looked at him.
“How distant?”
Samuel thought.
“Our grandmother, Helen Mercer Reed, was descended from a brother of Elias’s grandfather.”
Dr. Sloan nodded.
“That could explain the match.”
I sat back.
“So I’m distantly related to Ethan.”
“Very distantly.”
“Not meaningfully for ordinary family relationships.”
I laughed weakly.
“Thank God for one normal sentence.”
Dad smiled.
Then Dr. Sloan said.
“However.”
I groaned.
“Of course.”
“The distant relationship may have mattered to the trust structure.”
Luka’s expression hardened.
“How?”
“If Elias wanted to create a child whose DNA appeared embedded in multiple documented family lines, Amelia’s maternal and paternal ancestry could both help.”
My stomach turned.
“Even my father’s ancestry made me useful.”
“Yes.”
I closed the report.
For once, I was tired of genetics.
I wanted a world where family meant who showed up.
Who stayed.
Who loved you.
Not percentages.
Not markers.
Not inheritance clauses.
Dad touched my hand.
“Milly.”
I looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I should have told you more.”
“You were trying to protect me.”
He smiled sadly.
“You hate that sentence now.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I laughed through tears.
“Dad.”
“I mean it.”
His expression became serious.
“Protection without truth becomes control.”
I stared.
He had learned the lesson too late.
But he had learned it.
“I thought if I kept you away from all of this, you could have a normal life.”
“I almost did.”
He looked toward the bassinet camera feed on my phone.
“Ava changed it.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Elias changed it.”
“Ethan helped.”
“Celeste helped.”
“Everyone made choices.”
“Ava just exists.”
Dad smiled.
“That’s my girl.”
I spent the next hour telling him about my life.
College.
My first job.
Meeting Ethan.
Our wedding.
The apartment.
My pregnancy.
The parts before betrayal.
I expected Dad to hate Ethan instantly.
Instead he listened.
Then he asked.
“Was he kind?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still?”
I looked down.
“I don’t know what part of him I loved.”
Dad nodded.
“That’s different.”
“What?”
“Loving a person and loving the life they convinced you was real.”
I swallowed.
He understood too much.
Samuel entered with food.
Luka remained nearby.
At some point Dad looked at him.
“You’re quieter than Dominic.”
Luka smiled faintly.
“That’s not what people usually say.”
“Dominic talked when he was nervous.”
“I don’t.”
“I noticed.”
Dad studied him.
“You have Teresa’s eyes.”
Luka looked away.
That mattered.
His biological mother was Teresa.
Whatever Elias contributed genetically, Dominic was still the father who raised him.
Dad seemed to know that.
Later, while Samuel helped Dad rest, Luka and I walked outside.
The Riverglen gardens were wet from rain.
Gray sky.
Bare trees.
Cold air.
I wrapped my coat tighter.
“You okay?”
I asked.
“No.”
The honesty surprised me.
“Good.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“I’m tired of men saying they’re fine.”
He almost smiled.
Then his expression changed.
“I spent half my life trying not to become my father.”
“Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“Now I find out biologically he wasn’t.”
“That changes nothing.”
“It changes something.”
“Blood.”
“Yes.”
“Not childhood.”
“No.”
He stared across the lawn.
“Elias is my biological father.”
“Probably.”
“I hate that word.”
“So do I.”
“I look like him.”
“No.”
He glanced at me.
“You met him for six years.”
“Your face is different.”
“That is not scientifically convincing.”
“I’m not trying to be scientific.”
He almost smiled again.
I continued.
“You look at Ava like she matters.”
“Elias looks at her like she’s a key.”
Luka became quiet.
Then he whispered.
“If the test says she’s mine…”
I waited.
“What then?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer no longer irritated me.
Because for once, none of us did.
“You don’t get to decide alone.”
“I know.”
“And neither do I.”
He looked at me.
“She’s your daughter.”
“Yes.”
“But if you’re her biological father, then we figure out what that means carefully.”
“No disappearing.”
His face changed.
“I won’t.”
“You can’t promise me things just because my father asked you twelve years ago.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why?”
He looked directly at me.
“Because she might be my daughter.”
The simplicity nearly undid me.
No trust.
No vault.
No inheritance.
A daughter.
That was all.
My phone rang.
Celeste.
I answered.
She sounded breathless.
“We found Ethan.”
“Where?”
“Mercer archive facility in Connecticut.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Elias?”
“Gone.”
“Of course.”
Celeste continued.
“Ethan got the master genetic archive.”
Luka moved closer.
“Does he have it?”
“Yes.”
“Then bring him here.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Celeste hesitated.
“Because he locked himself inside the archive room.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“He says he won’t come out until Amelia speaks to him.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does he want?”
Celeste lowered her voice.
“He found the original order authorizing your insemination.”
“I already know he signed it.”
“No.”
“This one was signed by someone else.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“Your father.”
I turned toward Riverglen.
Dad.
Impossible.
“What are you talking about?”
Celeste continued.
“The authorization contains Thomas Hayes’s biometric signature.”
“That’s impossible.”
“He was declared dead years before my procedure.”
“I know.”
“Then it’s forged.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“There’s an attached video.”
My pulse jumped.
“What video?”
“Thomas sitting in a clinical office six months before your insemination.”
I stopped breathing.
“That can’t be.”
Celeste whispered.
“Amelia, your father may have known M-17 was going to be used to create Ava.”
I stared at Riverglen.
At the building where Dad had just apologized for keeping secrets.
May you like
Then Celeste said the line that shattered the fragile peace I had found.
“And the video shows him saying he agreed.”
