Chapter 8 - THE FIRST DNA ENVELOPE
The first envelope carried Victor Vale’s name.
The second carried Adrian’s.
The missing third envelope had no label in my father’s inventory.
Thomas had deliberately recorded it only as SUBJECT C.
“Why hide the name?”
I asked.
“Because if someone obtained the index, I didn’t want them knowing whose sample mattered most.”
“Who was Subject C?”
Thomas looked toward Luka.
Luka shook his head.
“I never knew.”
My father sat down.
“The DNA testing available twenty-seven years ago was enough to challenge Victor’s paternity.”
He tapped the first envelope.
“But I repeated the testing years later.”
“And?”
“Victor was not Adrian’s biological father.”
I felt strangely numb.
“That doesn’t explain my baby.”
“No.”
Thomas looked at Grace.
“But something happened when Adrian requested access to your prenatal records.”
My stomach tightened.
“He did what?”
“Eight months ago.”
Luka handed me a printed access log.
Adrian’s corporate credentials had been used to request my blood type, prenatal screening, family medical history, and fetal genetic panels.
I felt violated.
“He told me the extra testing was routine.”
“It wasn’t.”
My father’s voice became quieter.
“Adrian was looking for a specific marker.”
“What marker?”
“An inherited variation found in his biological father’s family.”
I stared at him.
“Why would he care?”
“Because if Grace inherited it, she could help identify the man.”
Everything clicked slowly.
“He used our daughter as a DNA test.”
Thomas nodded.
Rage burned through me.
Adrian hadn’t spent my pregnancy worried about Grace.
He had spent it collecting evidence.
“Who is Adrian’s biological father?”
“That was what Subject C could prove.”
I looked toward the empty space in the folder.
“And the envelope is missing.”
“Yes.”
My phone rang.
Adrian.
I stared at the name.
Luka reached for it.
I stopped him.
Then I answered.
“What?”
Adrian sounded exhausted.
“Elena, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“Do not open M-17.”
My father looked at me sharply.
“Why?”
“Because Moretti and your father are using you.”
“You know my father is alive.”
Silence.
That silence was confession.
“How long have you known?”
“Elena.”
“How long?”
“Two years.”
My knees nearly buckled.
Two years.
He had known for two years that my father was alive.
He had watched me visit my father’s grave.
He had stood beside me.
He had placed flowers on an empty stone.
I whispered.
“You watched me cry at his grave.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
I laughed.
The sound frightened even me.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Please.”
Adrian’s voice cracked.
“Whatever Thomas told you, don’t believe all of it.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
He went silent again.
I looked at the empty slot in the file.
“Did you take Subject C?”
A breath.
Then another.
“Elena.”
“You did.”
“Don’t open anything else.”
“Why?”
His next words came almost as a whisper.
“Because if the last DNA result becomes public, my family loses everything.”
I looked at my daughter.
Then at Luka.
Then at the father I had thought was dead.
For the first time since Adrian walked out of the hospital, I smiled.
May you like
“Maybe you should have thought about that before leaving your daughter without looking back.”
Then I ended the call.
