The Bloodline Crack
963 Words
Gabriel felt trapped.
Not by walls.
Not by chains.
But by two ghosts.
One was his past — Victoria, standing strong, ready to drag him to court and tear down the image he had built for years.
The other was inside his own house — the truth about Daniel.
He did not know which battle to fight first.
The divorce?
Or the child?
Every morning he woke up with the same thought:
If Daniel is not my son… then who is?
And why won’t Prisca tell me?
Sandra’s DNA results came in on a quiet Wednesday afternoon.
Gabriel opened the email in his office.
His hands were steady.
He already suspected the answer.
But he needed proof.
He needed something that still belonged to him.
The document loaded slowly.
He scanned the lines quickly.
Probability of paternity: 99.99%.
Sandra was his.
His shoulders dropped slightly.
He didn’t even realize how much tension he was carrying until that moment.
Sandra was his daughter.
There was no mistake.
No doubt.
But the relief did not last.
Because just below that relief was the heavier question.
Daniel.
If Sandra was his…
Then Daniel wasn’t.
And that meant the betrayal wasn’t confusion.
It wasn’t timing.
It wasn’t a mistake.
It was real.
And deliberate.
Gabriel closed his laptop slowly.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
“I need to know,” he whispered.
Not because he wanted to push Daniel away.
Not because he loved him less.
But because if someone else could claim him—
He needed to be ready.
Prisca noticed the change in him.
He was quieter now, more watchful and less emotional.
It scared her more than shouting would have.
That evening, they sat at the dining table again.
Daniel was telling a story about school.
Sandra was laughing loudly.
Gabriel watched Daniel carefully.
The boy’s smile.
The way he held his spoon.
The way he frowned when he was thinking.
For years, he had seen himself in those habits.
Now he questioned every detail.
Was it imagination?
Or just love?
After dinner, the children ran off to their room.
Gabriel remained seated.
Prisca began clearing the plates.
“Sit,” he said calmly.
She froze.
His voice was not loud.
But it carried weight.
She sat down slowly.
“We need to finish this conversation,” he said.
“What conversation?” she asked softly.
“Daniel.”
She looked down.
“Gabriel, not now.”
“When?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
He leaned forward.
“Who is his father?”
Silence.
Prisca’s hands trembled slightly.
“It was before we were serious,” she said quickly.
“That is not what I asked.”
She swallowed.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“The children are fine. We’re fine. Why dig up old wounds?”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“Because someone else might come digging.”
She looked at him sharply.
“Victoria won’t touch my child.”
“This isn’t about Victoria.”
“Then what is it about?”
His voice dropped.
“It’s about the possibility that a man out there has a right to my son.”
The word my hung in the air.
Prisca shook her head.
“No one is coming for Daniel.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?” he demanded.
She hesitated.
And that hesitation said everything.
Gabriel stood up slowly.
“Who is he?”
Prisca stood up too.
“You’re turning this into something it’s not.”
“I’m trying to protect my family.”
“You’re trying to protect your pride!”
The words hit hard.
He stared at her.
“My pride?” he repeated quietly.
“You can’t stand the idea that Daniel might not carry your blood,” she continued, her voice shaking now. “But he carries your love. Isn’t that enough?”
Gabriel looked away for a moment.
When he looked back, his eyes were darker.
“I am not afraid of loving him,” he said. “I am afraid of losing him.”
That stopped her.
Because deep down—
She knew that fear was real.
Two days later, Gabriel met his lawyer regarding Victoria’s divorce.
The office smelled like polished wood and tension.
“She’s serious,” the lawyer said plainly. “Very serious.”
Gabriel nodded.
“I know.”
“She’s asking for a full audit of your finances during the time of her illness.”
Gabriel’s fingers tightened slightly.
“That was years ago.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
The lawyer looked at him carefully.
“If there is anything questionable, tell me now.”
Gabriel remained silent.
The lawyer leaned forward.
“And Gabriel… if there are other personal matters that could surface during the divorce, I need to know.”
Gabriel understood the meaning.
“Like what?” he asked carefully.
“Children,” the lawyer said bluntly.
The room felt heavy.
Gabriel didn’t respond.
The lawyer’s eyes sharpened.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Gabriel stood up.
“Handle the divorce,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
That night, Gabriel searched through old records.
Hospital bills.
Transfer receipts.
Dates.
He compared them.
He counted months.
He traced timelines.
Daniel’s age.
Their separation period.
Victoria’s illness.
Prisca’s arrival.
Something didn’t add up.
The timeline was too tight.
Too exact.
He closed the files slowly.
His mind was racing.
If Daniel was conceived during that brief period when he left prisca to go stay with victoria, then there was only a small window.
Which meant—
The father wasn’t random.
It was someone close.
Someone available.
Someone trusted.
The thought made his stomach twist.
- Writer
