Chapter 6
For several seconds, I thought I'd heard the judge wrong.
Rebecca stood.
"Your Honor, we object to whatever ambush—"
The judge raised a hand.
"I have not made any finding."
I couldn't move.
The words echoed in my head.
Not Lily's biological father.
Charles finally looked at me.
There was no triumph in his expression.
That somehow made it worse.
The judge continued.
"The petitioner has submitted a laboratory report indicating that DNA recovered from a stored medical sample may exclude Mr. Malone as the biological father."
My ears rang.
Rebecca demanded to see the report.
The hearing stopped.
I barely noticed.
All I could think about was Lily.
Her blue eyes.
Grace's blue eyes.
Her tiny hand inside mine.
Daddy.
Daddy.
Daddy.
Rebecca pulled me into a conference room.
"Bear."
I stared at the wall.
"Bear."
"What?"
"Look at me."
I did.
"This changes nothing about who you are to Lily."
"Don't."
"I'm serious."
"I know what you're trying to say."
"I'm not trying. I'm telling you."
"What if it's true?"
"Then you're still her father."
My voice broke.
"What if Grace lied?"
Rebecca didn't answer immediately.
That hurt more.
I stood.
"I need air."
"You cannot confront Charles."
"I don't care about Charles."
"Then where are you going?"
"To Lily."
Mara brought her to a private hallway.
The second Lily saw me, she ran.
"Daddy!"
I caught her.
She wrapped both arms around my neck.
That was the answer.
Whatever a laboratory said, this child was mine.
Still, something inside me had cracked.
She pulled back.
"Did we win?"
I looked at Rebecca.
Then at Lily.
"Grandpa can't take you today."
She smiled.
"Good."
She kissed my cheek.
Then whispered, "Can we get pancakes?"
I laughed despite myself.
"Yeah."
We left court and went to the same diner Grace used to love.
Lily drowned her pancakes in syrup.
I barely ate.
She noticed.
"Are you sick?"
"No."
"You look sick."
"I'm thinking."
"About Grandpa?"
"About lots of things."
She reached across the table and touched my hand.
"Mommy said thinking too much gives wrinkles."
I stared at her.
"She said that?"
"Yes."
"Your mom had a lot of opinions."
Lily nodded seriously.
"She said you were handsome even with your beard."
I almost cried into my coffee.
That night, after Lily slept, Rebecca came over with the lab report.
Thomas joined us.
The report claimed a stored blood sample from Grace's pregnancy had been compared to a DNA sample obtained from me.
I read the page twice.
"Where did they get my DNA?"
Thomas answered.
"Good question."
"I've never done a test."
"Exactly."
Rebecca pointed to the chain-of-custody section.
"The sample attributed to you came from a private laboratory."
"How?"
Thomas said, "Apparently through Dr. Pike."
My anger returned instantly.
"He stole my DNA?"
"Or fabricated it."
We found Pike's address.
Rebecca told me repeatedly we were not going there.
Instead, Thomas did.
He called two hours later.
"Pike's gone."
"What does that mean?"
"House empty. Office cleared."
"When?"
"Neighbors say yesterday."
Charles had known his case was collapsing.
So he had prepared another weapon.
Rebecca searched Grace's files again.
Near midnight, she found an old email.
Grace to Dr. Pike.
Subject: Paternity paperwork.
I couldn't open it.
Rebecca did.
The message was short.
Dr. Pike,
Duke does not know about the fertility procedure, and I would prefer to tell him myself when I am ready. Please do not discuss donor records with anyone, including my father.
I stopped breathing.
Rebecca looked at me.
"Bear."
"What fertility procedure?"
She didn't know.
I searched my memory.
Grace had trouble getting pregnant.
We tried for almost three years.
There were appointments.
Tests.
Treatments.
I worked constantly during that period because medical bills were crushing us.
Grace handled most appointments alone.
One night she came home crying and told me we still had a chance.
Months later, she was pregnant.
I never asked enough questions.
Maybe I had been afraid the answer would hurt.
Thomas said quietly, "There may have been a donor."
I stood.
"She would've told me."
Nobody responded.
I walked outside.
The cold air hit my face.
For the first time since Grace died, I was angry with her.
Not because Lily might not share my DNA.
I didn't care about that.
I cared that Grace might have left me with a secret big enough to explode our daughter's life.
I sat on the porch steps.
After a while, the front door opened.
Tank sat beside me.
I hadn't heard him arrive.
"You know what my father told me once?" he asked.
"No."
"Nothing useful. He was an idiot."
I looked at him.
He shrugged.
"But my stepdad taught me how to drive, shave, work, and not become an idiot."
I knew where this was going.
"Don't."
"I'm going to."
"Tank."
"He wasn't my blood."
I stared at the yard.
"He was my dad."
Silence.
Tank continued.
"If Lily came downstairs right now and some doctor proved you didn't make her, would you stop loving her?"
"No."
"Would you stop raising her?"
"No."
"Would you let Charles take her?"
I looked at him.
"Over my dead body."
Tank nodded.
"Then congratulations. You're her father."
It sounded simple.
Maybe it was.
The next morning, Thomas found Pike.
He hadn't left town.
He had checked into a motel under his middle name.
Police picked him up after the forgery investigation expanded.
By afternoon, Pike wanted a deal.
Rebecca and I met with prosecutors.
Pike sat across the table looking exhausted.
He wouldn't look at me.
The prosecutor asked him directly.
"Did you falsify the DNA report?"
Pike swallowed.
"No."
My heart sank.
"But the report was misleading."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Explain."
Pike rubbed both hands over his face.
"Duke Malone is not Lily's genetic father."
I felt Rebecca touch my arm.
I didn't move.
Pike continued.
"Grace used donor sperm during fertility treatment."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Truth.
Then Pike said, "But Duke knew."
My eyes opened.
"What?"
Pike finally looked at me.
"You signed the consent."
"No, I didn't."
"You did."
He turned to the prosecutor.
"Charles altered other documents. But not that one."
I stared at him.
"I would remember."
Pike looked confused.
Then frightened.
"Mr. Malone..."
"What?"
"You were there."
"When?"
"The night of the emergency procedure."
Something shifted in my memory.
Hospital.
Rain.
Grace crying.
Me signing papers.
Dozens of papers.
Pike continued.
"The treatment failed twice. Grace's final procedure used a donor sample because your stored sample had been accidentally destroyed."
I went still.
"What?"
"Grace asked us to explain everything after the procedure."
"You didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
Pike looked down.
"Your motorcycle accident happened the next morning."
My stomach turned.
Suddenly I remembered.
The crash.
Three broken ribs.
A concussion.
Two days of missing memory.
Grace sitting beside my hospital bed telling me only one thing.
We're going to have a baby.
I stared at Pike.
He whispered, "You knew before the accident."
My anger drained away.
Maybe Grace hadn't lied.
Maybe my own damaged memory had erased the truth.
Then the prosecutor placed one final document on the table.
The original fertility consent.
My signature was at the bottom.
Beside it was a handwritten note.
If this gives us Lily, I don't care whose DNA she carries. She'll be mine.
May you like
I read my own words.
And started crying.
