The first thing I saw inside the nursery was my pregnant wife’s wedding ring lying in the center of an empty crib. The second was a single dried drop of blood on the white wooden rail—and behind me, my mother calmly said, “Grace left you,” as though she were discussing the weather.

The sheer audacity of the lie sent a blinding rush of adrenaline straight through my veins.

Grace had never looked at another man, and I knew in my soul that the child was mine.

Vance hesitated for a fraction of a second, expecting his psychological warfare to break my spirit.

I used his momentary distraction to dive forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun and shoving it violently upward.

The weapon fired, sending a deafening gunshot echoing through the narrow concrete hallway as the bullet buried itself into the ceiling.

I drove my knee viciously into his stomach, wrapping my arms around his waist and tackling him heavily to the floor.

Vance gasped for air, his grip on the pistol loosening just enough for me to rip it out of his hands.

I stood up quickly, aiming the heavy weapon directly at his forehead.

"Give me your keycard, right now," I demanded, breathing heavily through my teeth.

Vance slowly reached into his jacket pocket and tossed a thick black security card onto the floor.

I picked it up without taking my eyes off him, then struck him across the temple with the heavy steel grip of the gun.

He slumped sideways onto the cold floor, completely unconscious.

I swiped the keycard against the electronic reader next to the reinforced doors.

The light flashed green, and the heavy metal panels slid apart with a soft mechanical hiss.

I stepped into a small administrative office that connected directly to the main delivery suite.

Sitting on the desk was a stack of official medical documents printed on heavy, watermarked paper.

I flipped eagerly to the final page, searching for the genetic sequencing results Vance had mentioned.

The probability of paternity for Ethan Caldwell was listed clearly at ninety-nine point nine percent.

I smiled in profound relief, but my eyes caught a second set of complex medical data printed at the bottom of the page.

The Clumsy Maid Bathed His Dog—Then The Mafia Boss Said She Wasn’t Leavi...

She found her husband with another woman and walked away so quietly that...

The Mafia Boss Asked a Disabled Widow If She Was Okay

It was a comparative maternal DNA panel run between Evelyn Caldwell and myself.

The maternal probability match was absolute zero.

Chapter 6 - The Blood Test