Chapter 15 - THE FIRST DNA ENVELOPE
I stared at Ethan.
No one moved.
Luka stood beside the table.
Celeste remained near the wall.
Dr. Sloan held the second envelope.
Ethan stayed on his knees.
“Get up.”
I said it quietly.
He shook his head.
“Please.”
“Get up.”
He stood slowly.
His face was pale.
I looked at the envelope.
“What do you think it says?”
Ethan did not answer.
“Do you already know?”
“I know what my father told me.”
“That means almost nothing.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
His eyes filled.
“Because if the test says what I think it says, I lose the last person I thought I was.”
I stared.
“That sentence makes no sense.”
“It will.”
Luka folded his arms.
“Open it.”
Ethan looked at him.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“I can’t.”
Luka’s expression hardened.
“You have one bad habit.”
Ethan almost laughed.
“Only one?”
“You keep deciding other people can’t handle the truth.”
The line hit all of us.
Dad.
Dominic.
Celeste.
Ethan.
Maybe even Luka.
Every secret had started with someone deciding another person should not know.
I held out my hand.
Dr. Sloan gave me the envelope.
Ethan whispered.
“Amelia.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You lost the right to ask me not to know.”
I opened it.
The first page confirmed what Elias had claimed.
Luka Moretti and Ethan Mercer.
Probability of paternal half-sibling relationship:
99.91 percent.
Luka exhaled slowly.
Ethan closed his eyes.
Same biological father.
Elias Mercer.
At least most likely.
I turned the page.
There was an additional comparison.
Elias’s archived genetic profile had been included from a prior legal sample obtained years earlier.
Luka.
Probability Elias Mercer was biological father:
99.99 percent.
Ethan.
Probability Elias Mercer was biological father:
99.99 percent.
Brothers.
Half-brothers through Elias.
I looked at Ethan.
“You knew this might be true.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you beg me not to open it?”
“That’s not the part.”
My stomach tightened.
I turned the page.
There was a third relationship analysis.
Amelia Hayes.
Ethan Mercer.
Expected distant relationship.
Consistent with previously identified shared ancestry.
Nothing surprising.
Then Ava.
Luka.
Confirmed father-child.
Ava.
Ethan.
Expected relationship.
Uncle-niece.
99.7 percent.
Again expected.
I looked up.
“What am I missing?”
Dr. Sloan took the report.
Her eyes narrowed.
“There’s an appendix.”
I turned to the final page.
A flagged marker.
Ava carried a rare recessive variant.
I frowned.
“Medical?”
Dr. Sloan read.
“Potentially.”
My heart stopped.
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing immediately.”
“Is she sick?”
“No.”
“Then why is it flagged?”
“Because she inherited one copy from you.”
“And one from Luka.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Luka.
He looked worried.
“So?”
Dr. Sloan’s expression changed.
“This variant is the same marker that appears in the archived M-01 lineage.”
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
She looked at Ethan.
“It also appears in Ethan.”
I frowned.
“That could be because we share distant ancestry.”
“Possible.”
“But the exact haplotype pattern is unusually close.”
My stomach tightened.
“How close?”
Dr. Sloan hesitated.
“Closer than second cousins.”
I stared.
“What are you saying?”
Ethan looked away.
“Tell her.”
Luka snapped.
Ethan’s eyes filled with shame.
“My father told me Thomas Hayes wasn’t your biological father.”
I stood so quickly the chair fell.
“What?”
Dad’s old test said he was.
“We already proved he is.”
Dr. Sloan nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then what is Ethan talking about?”
Ethan swallowed.
“Elias claimed Thomas and Margaret conceived you using a stored embryo.”
“No.”
“That test proved they were your biological parents.”
“I know.”
“He said the embryo itself came from an earlier procedure.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Your parents created embryos during treatment.”
“That doesn’t change parentage.”
“No.”
“Then why does it matter?”
Ethan looked terrified.
“Because Elias said one embryo was split for research.”
Dr. Sloan went still.
“That terminology is wrong.”
“What does he mean?”
She spoke slowly.
“He may mean an early embryo was used to create a genetically identical embryonic cell line.”
My stomach twisted.
“Why?”
“Research.”
“Or cloning attempts?”
Luka asked.
Dr. Sloan shook her head sharply.
“Not reproductive cloning.”
“At least there is no evidence of that.”
I looked at Ethan.
“What did Elias tell you?”
He whispered.
“That another child was born.”
Silence.
I stared.
“A sibling?”
“Possibly.”
“A twin?”
“Genetically, maybe.”
“But born years apart?”
“Yes.”
My skin went cold.
“That’s insane.”
“It may also be a lie.”
Dr. Sloan added quickly.
“Nothing in this report proves it.”
Ethan continued.
“My father told me the child was placed with another family.”
“Why tell you?”
“To scare me.”
“Again.”
“Yes.”
“What was the child’s name?”
Ethan looked at Luka.
Then at me.
“I never knew.”
“Then why does this matter to the kinship report?”
“Because my father claimed I descended from that line.”
The room went silent.
I stared.
“No.”
Luka looked confused.
“Explain.”
Ethan rubbed his face.
“Elias told me that although he was my legal and biological father, my mother’s egg did not belong to the woman who raised me.”
I froze.
“What?”
“My mother, Evelyn Mercer, was infertile.”
I had known Evelyn six years.
Cold.
Elegant.
Controlling.
But I never knew this.
Ethan continued.
“Elias used a stored egg from the M-01 program.”
My skin went cold.
“From my mother?”
He shook his head.
“From her family line.”
Dr. Sloan read the genetic data again.
Then her face changed.
“Oh.”
I stared.
“What?”
She looked at Ethan.
“You and Amelia may share a maternal-line ancestor much more recently than we thought.”
“How recently?”
“Potentially one generation.”
The room spun.
Ethan looked sick.
“That’s why I begged you not to open it.”
I felt nauseated.
“Are you saying my husband might be my brother?”
Dr. Sloan immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“Not based on this.”
“But?”
“Possibly a half-cousin or some unusual assisted-reproduction relationship.”
“That is not better.”
“It is very different.”
I breathed hard.
Luka moved toward me.
I raised a hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
I needed space.
Not comfort.
Not yet.
Dr. Sloan looked at the appendix.
“We need Evelyn Mercer’s DNA.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“She’ll never agree.”
“Then we need archived samples.”
Celeste spoke.
“Harrow & Pike has one.”
Everyone turned.
“What?”
“For trust verification.”
I stared.
“You can access it?”
“Yes.”
“How fast?”
“Hours.”
“Do it.”
She left immediately.
I looked at Ethan.
“Did you know any of this when we married?”
“No.”
“Did you suspect?”
“No.”
“When did Elias tell you?”
“After you became pregnant.”
My chest tightened.
“He told me our genetic relationship might become a problem if anyone performed deep kinship analysis.”
“So that is another reason you were terrified of DNA testing.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to scream.
Not because Ethan had created this part.
Because Elias had built so many overlapping lies that no one could find solid ground.
I walked to the window.
Outside, evening settled over the city.
Somewhere upstairs, Ava slept.
My daughter.
Luka’s daughter.
Ethan’s niece.
Maybe connected to me through lines nobody understood.
I whispered.
“I want the full truth.”
Luka stepped beside me.
“So do I.”
Hours later, Celeste returned with the trustee sample.
Evelyn Mercer.
Dr. Sloan sent it for expedited comparison.
We waited.
No one spoke much.
At 2:11 a.m., the result arrived.
Dr. Sloan read it first.
Then she sat down.
My heart pounded.
“What?”
She looked at Ethan.
“Evelyn Mercer is your biological mother.”
Relief crossed his face.
Then she continued.
“But Amelia and Ethan share approximately 6.2 percent autosomal DNA.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
“Roughly consistent with first cousins once removed, half-first cousins, or another relationship in that range.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Not siblings.
Not close enough to make our marriage genetically alarming in the way I feared.
But far closer than simple distant ancestry.
Dr. Sloan studied the data.
“The connection appears through Amelia’s maternal line and Evelyn’s paternal line.”
Samuel called in.
When we told him, he went silent.
Then he said.
“I know.”
My stomach dropped.
“Know what?”
“Our mother had a brother.”
“Mom had another uncle?”
“Yes.”
“He disappeared before Margaret was born.”
“Name?”
Samuel whispered.
“Charles Reed.”
I waited.
“What does he have to do with Evelyn?”
Samuel answered.
“He changed his name.”
“To what?”
A long silence.
Then.
“Charles Mercer.”
My skin prickled.
“The man who raised Elias.”
Everyone went still.
Luka stared at Ethan.
Dr. Sloan looked at the report.
I tried to follow.
My grandmother’s brother had become part of the Mercer family.
That made Elias related to my mother’s family not distantly.
Directly.
Which meant the Mercer and Reed lines had been tangled long before M-17.
Samuel continued.
“And that is why Elias chose Margaret.”
I stopped breathing.
“He wasn’t searching randomly for a compatible woman.”
“He was rebuilding a bloodline.”
My stomach turned.
“What bloodline?”
Samuel whispered.
“The one his father stole.”
Then the call cut out.
I stared at the phone.
May you like
And suddenly the Mercer program looked less like an inheritance scam invented by Elias.
It looked like an obsession inherited from the generation before him.
