It took two days to find the envelope.
Not at our house.
Not in Sarah’s purse.
But in my mother’s car.
Hidden in the glove compartment.
I stared at it for a long time before opening it.
Two sheets of paper.
The first was exactly what Sarah said—medical results, flagged risks, urgent recommendations.
The second…
My hands shook as I read.
DNA analysis.
Paternity confirmation.
99.98% probability.
I exhaled, confused.
Of course.
That made sense.
Then I saw the names.
Tested individual: Michael Carter.
Alleged father: Jonathan Reed.
My vision blurred.
Jonathan Reed.
I knew that name.
Everyone in our family did.
He wasn’t just anyone.
He was my father.
