Chapter 10 - What Makes a Father
Leo didn’t cry.
That was worse.
He stared at the second birth certificate for almost a minute.
Then he looked at me.
“Are you my dad?”
“Yes.”
I answered before anyone else could breathe.
“Yes.”
“But that says—”
“I don’t care what that paper says.”
My voice broke.
“I was there when you had your first fever. I taught you how to ride a bike. I slept on the floor beside your bed after your mom died because you were scared to be alone.”
He looked down.
“I’m your father.”
Rachel quietly picked up the second certificate.
“We don’t even know if this is real.”
That mattered.
I grabbed onto it.
“Exactly.”
The paper looked official, but after everything we had uncovered, forged records were hardly impossible.
We sent both certificates to investigators.
Clara found another file in the storage box.
Medical records.
Nora had undergone fertility treatment before Leo was born.
I knew that.
We had struggled to have children for three years.
But there were pages I had never seen.
Donor records.
Lab numbers.
Signatures.
Rachel studied them.
“Daniel may not have been Leo’s biological father.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“These records reference stored genetic material.”
Clara went pale.
“Oh God.”
“What?”
She sat down.
“Nora once told me your father had arranged the clinic.”
My stomach twisted.
That evening, a forensic document examiner called.
The second birth certificate was fake.
I nearly collapsed with relief.
But he wasn’t finished.
“It was created approximately six years ago.”
“By whom?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why?”
“To convince someone the child’s paternity was disputed.”
Rachel immediately understood.
“If Adam could be persuaded Leo wasn’t his son…”
“…he might stop fighting for him,” I finished.
That had been the plan.
Not just steal Leo’s inheritance.
Separate us.
Emotionally first.
Legally later.
The investigators examined the fertility records.
Two days later, they confirmed the horrifying truth.
Daniel had gained access to the clinic files.
He had manipulated the paperwork to create doubt about Leo’s parentage.
But DNA records still existed.
Leo was mine.
Biologically.
Legally.
In every way that mattered.
I told him myself.
He hugged me so hard I couldn’t speak.
For one minute, everything felt simple again.
Then Rachel received a call.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
She put the phone on speaker.
An investigator spoke.
“We traced the payments keeping Nora’s safety deposit box active.”
I leaned forward.
“Who paid them?”
“A company registered in Delaware.”
“Whose company?”
There was a pause.
“We followed the ownership chain.”
“And?”
“It belongs to Daniel Mercer.”
Nobody moved.
My brother was alive.
He knew about the box.
He had been protecting it.
Or watching it.
Then the investigator added one more thing.
“We also traced the anonymous text sent to your mother.”
My mouth went dry.
“Daniel?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
He gave us the name.
I turned toward Clara.
May you like
She closed her eyes.
Because the person warning my mother about the photograph had been Clara herself.
