Chapter 5
I looked at the photograph Angela had placed on the table.
A smiling little girl.
A man standing beside her.
A family story built on a claim that had already been proven false.
I felt my hands curl into fists.
"Why would Ethan pretend to be her father?"
Angela looked down.
"Money."
I stared at her.
She continued.
"Brianna's mother had inherited property from her parents. Ethan convinced her he was the girl's father, then used that claim to pressure her for money and access."
David leaned forward.
"Do you have documentation?"
Angela nodded.
"Copies of the court records. My attorney helped me obtain them during our divorce."
She opened the envelope.
Inside were documents showing that Ethan had pursued a paternity claim involving Brianna.
The court-ordered test excluded him as the biological father.
The legal dispute had ended years earlier.
I stared at the papers.
"Did he receive money before the test?"
Angela nodded.
"Her mother gave him several thousand dollars because he promised not to disrupt the girl's life."
I felt sick.
The pattern was almost identical.
A frightened mother.
A child caught in the middle.
A man demanding money.
David made copies of the relevant documents.
"Thank you for bringing this," he told Angela.
She looked at me.
"I have a daughter too, Marcus. I know what it's like to fear someone might use your child to hurt you."
I swallowed.
"Thank you."
Angela reached across the table.
"Whatever happens with the DNA test, don't let Ethan convince you that you aren't Maya's father."
My throat tightened.
I nodded.
"I won't."
After the meeting, I sat alone in my truck.
For a long time, I couldn't start the engine.
I kept thinking about Maya.
About the day she was born.
She had arrived three weeks early.
I remembered rushing through the hospital hallway with my heart pounding.
I remembered Denise screaming my name.
I remembered the nurse placing a tiny baby in my arms.
Maya had opened her eyes and looked straight at me.
I had never experienced anything like it.
I promised her that day that I would always protect her.
Now I realized that promise was being tested in a way I never imagined.
I drove home slowly.
Denise was waiting in the kitchen.
She stood when I entered.
"Did you find out anything?"
I placed the documents on the counter.
"Yes."
She looked at them.
"What's that?"
"Evidence that Ethan has used false paternity claims to pressure another family for money."
Denise covered her mouth.
"Oh, God."
I stared at her.
"You sent him twenty-four thousand dollars without demanding proof."
She sat down.
"I thought if I paid him, he'd disappear."
"Instead, he got closer to Maya."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I know."
I looked at her for a long moment.
"Denise, we need to separate two things."
She raised her head.
"Your affair was a betrayal of our relationship."
She began crying.
"And Ethan's threats are something we can address through the proper channels."
She nodded.
"But hiding the truth has hurt Maya. She deserves better from both of us."
Denise wiped her cheeks.
"I know."
I took a breath.
"Maya should have access to accurate information about her biological background. But nobody gets to force her into a test or a relationship with Ethan."
Denise looked relieved.
"Do you think we should tell her about the other girl?"
"Only what is relevant, and without frightening her unnecessarily."
That evening, I knocked on Maya's door.
"Can we talk?"
She was sitting at her desk, working on a sketch.
She nodded.
I sat beside her.
"Sweetheart, I spoke with my attorney today."
She immediately looked nervous.
"Am I in trouble?"
"No."
I smiled gently.
"Not even a little."
She put down her pencil.
"Did you find Ethan?"
"We found information about him."
"Is he dangerous?"
I considered my answer carefully.
"He's made threats, and we're taking them seriously. But I don't want you carrying this fear alone."
She nodded.
"Does he really think I'm his daughter?"
"He says he does."
Maya looked down.
"Do you?"
I felt my chest tighten.
"I don't know what the biological answer is."
She looked at me.
"Would you want a test?"
"I want you to have truthful information, if and when you're ready."
She was quiet.
Then she whispered, "I want to know."
I reached for her hand.
"Okay."
"But I'm scared."
"So am I."
She looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Of course."
I smiled sadly.
"Being your dad doesn't mean I never get scared. It means I show up anyway."
Her eyes filled.
She leaned against me.
"I don't want anything to change."
I wrapped my arm around her.
"Some things may change. But my love for you won't."
A week later, we met with a medical professional to discuss appropriate genetic testing.
David also explained the difference between a private informational test and a legally recognized paternity process.
Maya chose to proceed with an informational comparison between us.
I agreed.
Denise did too.
We waited for the results.
Those days were among the longest of my life.
Maya tried to focus on school.
I tried to focus on work.
Denise spent much of her time quietly moving around the house.
We were still living under the same roof, but our marriage felt suspended between two possible futures.
One evening, Maya came downstairs carrying her prom budget.
She placed it on the kitchen island.
I looked up.
"What's this?"
"I made changes."
I read the list.
Dress: $280.
Hair: $80.
Shoes: $65.
Transportation: $100.
Dinner and photographs: $125.
Other expenses: $100.
Total: $750.
I looked at her.
"Maya."
She shrugged.
"I found a dress I love that's on sale. My friend knows someone who does hair. And we're splitting transportation."
I felt pride rise in my chest.
"That's smart."
She smiled.
"And I got a weekend job at the bookstore."
I stared at her.
"You did?"
She nodded proudly.
"They hired me yesterday."
I stood and hugged her.
"Congratulations."
She laughed.
"Does that mean you'll still match what I save?"
I smiled.
"Absolutely."
For the first time in weeks, we laughed together.
Then the doorbell rang.
I walked toward the front door.
A delivery envelope rested on the porch.
There was no visible sender.
I brought it inside.
Inside was a photograph of Maya leaving the bookstore.
My stomach tightened.
On the back, someone had written:
TELL HER THE TRUTH BEFORE I DO.
I immediately called David and reported it to the police.
But before I could finish explaining, my phone rang.
It was the medical testing office.
The results were ready.
I looked toward Maya.
She had stopped smiling.
"Dad?"
May you like
I took a breath.
And realized that whatever the envelope contained, we were about to face a completely different truth.
