Chapter 6
The words sealed paternity report kept repeating in my head.
For a week, I'd been waiting for the new DNA test.
Now I was hearing that someone might already know the answer.
I looked at Rebecca.
"Where is the report?"
She shook her head.
"We don't know yet."
My stomach tightened.
"Then why does Patricia think it exists?"
"She says Harold ordered testing shortly after you were born."
I stared at Dad.
He looked shocked.
"Claire never told me that."
I felt anger rise.
Of course she hadn't.
My mother had hidden everything else.
Why would this be different?
Rebecca continued.
"Patricia claims she helped file the results."
I leaned forward.
"Did she see them?"
"She says she did."
My heart pounded.
"Then ask her what they said!"
Rebecca nodded.
"I did."
I stared at her.
"And?"
"She refused to discuss the result over the phone."
I almost laughed.
"Unbelievable."
Dad placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Jordan."
I shook my head.
"Everybody keeps telling me they know something, then refusing to say it."
My voice cracked.
"I'm tired of being treated like a child."
Rebecca's expression softened.
"I understand."
She explained that Patricia had agreed to meet in person.
But there was a complication.
She was frightened.
She claimed someone had been following her.
My stomach twisted.
"Daniel?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"Possibly."
I looked toward Dad.
He was staring at the floor.
For the first time, I realized how much this was hurting him too.
He'd spent seventeen years raising me.
Now he was being forced to question the one part of our relationship he'd never doubted.
I reached for his hand.
He looked surprised.
I squeezed it.
"Whatever happens, you're still my dad."
His eyes filled.
He nodded.
"Always."
That evening, I found Mom sitting alone in the kitchen.
She was staring at an old family photograph.
I hesitated in the doorway.
Then walked toward her.
"Mom."
She looked up.
Her eyes were swollen.
"Jordan."
I sat across from her.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked, "Did Grandpa test my DNA?"
Her face changed.
I knew the answer before she spoke.
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She began crying.
"Because he said the results were confidential."
I stared at her.
"Even from me?"
She lowered her head.
I took a deep breath.
"Do you know what they said?"
She hesitated.
Then whispered, "No."
I studied her face.
I wanted to believe her.
But I wasn't sure I could.
"Did you ever ask?"
She nodded.
"Many times."
"What did Grandpa say?"
Her voice broke.
"He told me I needed to trust him."
I looked away.
That sounded exactly like Grandpa.
He always acted as though he knew what was best.
And everyone else was expected to obey.
I stared at Mom.
"Did you ever think about how this would affect me?"
She began crying harder.
"Every day."
I shook my head.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
She whispered, "Because I was afraid you'd hate me."
My chest tightened.
"Mom, hiding the truth is what's making me angry."
She covered her face.
I stood.
I couldn't keep having the same conversation.
Before leaving, I turned back.
"I don't hate you."
She looked up.
"But I don't trust you right now."
Her face crumpled.
I walked away.
The next morning, Patricia Ellis arrived at Rebecca's office.
Dad and I were waiting.
She looked older than I remembered.
Her silver hair was cut short.
She carried a worn brown purse.
When she saw me, her eyes filled.
"Jordan?"
I nodded.
She smiled sadly.
"You look so much like..."
She stopped.
My heart hammered.
"Like who?"
Patricia looked away.
Rebecca motioned for her to sit.
For several minutes, they discussed the old records.
Then Patricia opened her purse.
She removed a small envelope.
My stomach tightened.
"Is that the report?"
She shook her head.
"No."
I felt disappointment crash through me.
Then she continued.
"It's the receipt for the report."
I leaned forward.
The receipt listed a laboratory.
A date.
And a reference number.
It also showed that Harold Bennett had requested the results be delivered directly to his private office.
I stared at the paper.
"Can we get a copy?"
Rebecca nodded.
"We can attempt to locate the laboratory's archived records."
I looked at Patricia.
"Did you see the results?"
She nodded slowly.
My heart stopped.
"Then tell me."
Her eyes filled.
"I saw a summary."
I gripped the edge of my chair.
"Was Marcus my father?"
She looked toward Dad.
Then back at me.
Her lips trembled.
"Jordan, I don't want to tell you something I can't prove."
I felt anger rise.
"Please."
She began crying.
"I remember the result being placed in a sealed envelope."
My chest tightened.
"And?"
"Harold told me never to speak about it."
I stared at her.
"You worked for him."
She nodded.
"For twenty-three years."
"And you never questioned him?"
Her eyes filled.
"I did."
I leaned forward.
"What happened?"
"He threatened to fire me."
I looked away.
Another adult who'd chosen silence.
Another person who'd protected themselves while my life was shaped by lies.
Then Patricia said something unexpected.
"Your grandfather changed after receiving that report."
I looked back.
"Changed how?"
"He became frightened."
My stomach twisted.
"Of what?"
She hesitated.
"Daniel."
Dad leaned forward.
"Why?"
Patricia swallowed.
"Because Daniel knew something Harold wanted hidden."
I stared at her.
"What?"
She opened another envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Daniel standing outside Grandpa's office.
He was holding a folder.
Beside him stood a man I recognized immediately.
My grandfather.
But there was something else.
A third person.
A woman.
She looked young.
Her face was partly hidden by her hair.
I leaned closer.
"Who's that?"
Patricia's eyes filled.
"Her name was Rachel Brooks."
I frowned.
"Brooks?"
She nodded.
"Daniel's younger sister."
My heart pounded.
"What does she have to do with this?"
Patricia looked toward Rebecca.
Then whispered.
"Rachel was the person who originally requested the paternity test."
I stared at her.
"Why would Daniel's sister do that?"
Patricia's voice trembled.
"Because she believed the wrong man was being named as your father."
The room went silent.
I looked toward Dad.
He was staring at the photograph.
Then Patricia added something that made my stomach turn.
"Rachel disappeared shortly after the results arrived."
I couldn't move.
Disappeared.
Another secret.
Another person connected to my birth.
May you like
And suddenly, I wasn't just wondering who my biological father was.
I was wondering what had happened to the people who tried to tell the truth.
