DNA don't Lie
1053 Words
Adrian didn’t sleep that night.
Even after Vanessa was carted off and the hospital fell silent, her voice haunted him, twisting in his chest like a hook.
That little girl doesn’t even look like you…
At first, he’d dismissed it as manipulation. Classic Vanessa. Weaponizing words like daggers. But now, at 3:00 AM, with the room lit only by the soft hum of the bedside monitor, Adrian couldn’t shake it.
He sat in a chair beside Ember, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped like a prayer.
She looked so small beneath the white sheets. Her breathing was even now, thanks to the steroid drip. He made sure Liana went home to rest, to return in the morning. Maybe not to rest, maybe he just wanted everyone away from his daughter.
Adrian reached out and gently held Ember’s hand.
“I’m your dad,” he whispered. “I always will be...and I love you.”
But a single question...faint and cruel—lodged in the back of his brain like a splinter.
What if she’s not?
***
By morning, Adrian’s mind was made up.
He called the private clinic he used for all confidential matters and made an appointment. The woman on the phone assured him they could conduct a discreet parentage test with results expedited in forty-eight hours.
He collected a saliva swab from Ember while she slept, trying not to feel like a traitor. And then one from himself. He handed them off to the courier with hands that trembled.
He didn’t tell anyone.
Because if he was wrong—if Vanessa’s words were nothing more than poison—then nothing changed.
But if he was right…
No. He refused to finish the thought. Ember was his daughter.
***
Two days passed like centuries.
Adrian buried himself in hospital paperwork, coordinating Ember’s discharge, adjusting her medications, and hiring a 24/7 nurse to assist Liana. He pushed the thought of the test results as far down as he could.
Then came the call.
“Mr. Wolfe,” said the voice on the phone. “The results are in. Would you like them over the phone, or delivered in person?”
His throat was dry. “In person.”
They scheduled the meeting for noon.
***
The man who arrived was sharp-suited and impassive. He handed Adrian a sealed envelope inside a leather folder, then waited silently as Adrian opened it in the hospital’s private lounge.
He scanned the paper.
Once.
Twice.
His vision blurred.
Probability of paternity: 0.00%
He dropped the paper. His knees nearly gave out.
“Is there…a mistake?” he asked hoarsely.
The man shook his head. “The test was run twice, sir. There is no biological relation between you and Ember Wolfe.”
***
Adrian stumbled back into Ember’s room like a man half-drunk.
Liana looked up from the coloring book she and Ember were working on.
“You okay sir?” she asked. "Do you need something?"
"Daddy?" Ember called out softly.
He opened his mouth. Then closed it.
He couldn’t speak. Not yet.
He kissed Ember’s forehead and whispered, “Daddy just needs some fresh air.”
Then he left.
***
Adrian didn’t go home. He drove.
For hours.
Through the city, past the bridge, until skyscrapers turned to fields. Until rage and heartbreak blurred into a single emotion.
He parked outside a place he hadn’t been in years.
The Kensington Fertility Institute.
***
Years ago, Adrian and Vanessa had struggled with conception. They’d turned to IVF—Vanessa insisted it be done at the most elite clinic money could buy. Adrian remembered the meetings, the testing, the embryo creation.
But now, doubt crept in.
He stormed into the lobby.
“I need to speak to Dr. Ronan Chambers,” he told the receptionist.
She blinked. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Tell him Adrian Wolfe is here. Tell him it’s about the embryos. He’ll know.”
She disappeared for several minutes, then returned.
“He’ll see you. Second floor.”
***
Dr. Chambers was a calm, graying man in his fifties. He welcomed Adrian into his glass office with a look of polite confusion.
“You mentioned… embryos?”
Adrian threw the DNA report onto the desk.
Chambers read it. His brow furrowed.
“I don’t understand…”
“I want every record you have on our IVF cycle. I want to know if there was a mix-up—if Vanessa changed donors. If someone else’s sperm was used.”
Dr. Chambers blinked. “That’s impossible. Everything is logged. Your file...”
He stopped mid-sentence.
His face went pale.
He turned slowly to his computer and typed furiously, eyes darting across the screen.
“What is it?” Adrian demanded.
Dr. Chambers’ voice was barely audible.
“This file was accessed…six years ago. Altered. The donor IDs were changed.”
Adrian’s pulse roared.
“By who?”
Dr. Chambers clicked, scrolled, froze.
“Vanessa Sterling Wolfe. She used a master login. She changed the record after your first embryo failed. She… requested a replacement.”
Adrian’s head spun. “A replacement?! From who?”
Dr. Chambers clicked deeper.
Then his face crumpled.
“Oh… my God.”
“What?” Adrian shouted.
Dr. Chambers turned the screen.
And Adrian saw it.
Donor ID: #8945 — Embryo Source: George Wolfe
Adrian staggered backward, like he’d been shot.
George Wolfe.
His father.
He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t think.
His mind refused to process the sentence.
Ember isn’t my daughter… she’s my sister.
No. No. No.
He bolted out of the office, gasping for air. The sky outside was dark now, storm clouds gathering above the city like an omen.
Thunder cracked as he dropped to his knees in the parking lot.
***
Meanwhile, back in the city…
Vanessa sat in a black sports car outside a private mansion. She looked nothing like the woman who had been dragged from the hospital days ago.
Her hair was slicked into a low bun, sunglasses gone, face sharp and calm.
Her phone buzzed.
She answered.
“He found out,” she said simply.
A voice on the other end replied, muffled.
Vanessa smiled.
“Let him spiral. We’re just getting started.”
She hung up, smiling.
The car pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the rain.
- Writer
