Chapter 9: The Truth About Noah's Father
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything.
The room seemed to disappear.
Noah was sitting behind Vanessa.
Diane stood near the safe.
Daniel was beside the doorway.
And I was staring at a letter that claimed the little boy I had raised for four years wasn't biologically mine.
I looked at Vanessa.
"That's a lie.""
She shook her head.
"Your grandfather had proof.""
"Then show me.""
She handed me the letter.
The handwriting was my grandfather's.
Marcus,
If you are reading this, then the family has finally discovered the truth.
I have known for years that Noah may not be your biological child. I arranged for the matter to be investigated privately.
I stopped.
May not be?
I continued.
The results were inconclusive because the original samples were mishandled. However, Richard believed that James Carter's family had concealed information about Noah's biological father.
My eyes moved down the page.
The inheritance should therefore remain protected until the truth is established.
I lowered the letter.
"Where's the DNA report?""
Vanessa looked toward Diane.
My mother opened the black notebook.
"Your grandfather ordered a test shortly after Noah was born.""
I stared at her.
"Between whom?""
She hesitated.
"Between you and Noah.""
"And?""
"Robert told me the result was negative.""
I felt the floor shift.
"You're saying I'm not his father?""
Diane began crying.
"I didn't know what else to believe.""
I turned toward Noah.
He was watching me.
His little hands were gripping the chair.
"Daddy?""
I walked toward him.
Vanessa moved aside.
I knelt.
"Hey, buddy.""
He looked frightened.
"Are you mad at me?""
My heart broke.
"No.""
"Because I don't look like you?""
I swallowed.
"Who told you that?""
He lowered his eyes.
"Vanessa.""
I looked up.
Vanessa's face had gone pale.
"How dare you?""
She began crying.
"I didn't mean—"
I stood.
"He's four years old!""
"I was upset!""
"You told a child that his father might not love him because of a test?""
Vanessa covered her face.
Daniel moved toward Noah and gently picked him up.
"Come on, buddy. Let's give your dad a minute.""
Noah reached for me.
I kissed his forehead.
"I love you. Nothing changes that.""
He nodded.
Daniel carried him into the hallway.
I turned back toward Diane.
"Where is the original DNA report?""
She looked down.
"I don't have it.""
"Who does?""
"Claire.""
I stared at her.
"Why?""
"She arranged the testing.""
"Your lawyer arranged a private DNA test on my newborn son without telling me?""
Diane closed her eyes.
"Your grandfather insisted.""
I looked at Vanessa.
"Did you know?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
"When?""
"After my father died.""
"How?""
"Claire found the report among his papers.""
I shook my head.
"And you waited until tonight to tell me?""
Vanessa's voice broke.
"I was afraid.""
"Of what?""
"That you would choose Nia.""
I stared at her.
"This has nothing to do with choosing Nia.""
She shook her head.
"You don't understand. My father believed Noah was connected to the Carter family. He thought if the truth came out, your grandfather's entire fortune would go to him.""
I looked toward the safe.
"What truth?""
Vanessa hesitated.
Then she said:
"My father believed Noah was the biological son of someone else.""
I stared at her.
"Who?""
She looked at Diane.
My mother finally spoke.
"James Carter.""
I felt sick.
Nia's father.
The man who had supposedly died before Noah was born.
I looked at Diane.
"That's impossible.""
"Your grandfather believed there was a relationship between James and Nia.""
I shook my head.
"She was with me.""
"I know.""
"She was living with me!""
"I know, Marcus.""
"Then why would you say something like that?""
Diane wiped her face.
"Because Richard told Robert that James had been involved with Nia.""
I looked at the letter.
Something wasn't right.
If my grandfather truly believed Noah wasn't mine, why had he left him the trust?
Why had he instructed the attorney to give Nia access to the original records?
And why had the DNA results supposedly been negative?
I took out my phone.
"Daniel.""
He appeared in the doorway.
"Yes?""
"Call the attorney who handled my grandfather's estate. I want the original DNA report.""
Daniel nodded.
I turned toward Vanessa.
"Where's Claire?""
"At home.""
"Call her.""
She shook her head.
"She won't come.""
"Call her.""
Vanessa reluctantly dialed.
The phone rang twice.
Claire answered.
"Vanessa?""
"Mom, we're at the Whitmore office. Marcus knows about the DNA test.""
Silence.
Then Claire's voice became sharp.
"Get out of that building.""
"Mom—"
"Now!""
I took the phone.
"Claire, I need the original report.""
Her breathing changed.
"I don't have it.""
"Where is it?""
"I don't know.""
"You're lying.""
She said nothing.
I lowered my voice.
"Your daughter has taken my son. Your family has interfered with my child's life for years. If you have any remaining sense of decency, tell me where the report is.""
Claire began crying.
Then she said:
"It's in the safe.""
I looked toward Diane.
She stood beside the open office door.
"Open it," I said.
Diane entered the room.
She typed a combination into the keypad.
The safe clicked.
Inside were several folders, a black ledger, and a sealed envelope.
Diane removed the envelope.
She looked at the front.
Then she handed it to me.
The seal was intact.
I opened it.
Inside was a laboratory report dated four years earlier.
I read the first line.
Then the second.
Then the conclusion.
*Probability of paternity: 99.9998%.*
I looked up.
"He's mine.""
Diane's face crumpled.
Vanessa stared at the paper.
"That's impossible.""
I turned the report toward her.
"Read it.""
She shook her head.
"Your grandfather said—"
"Your grandfather lied.""
Diane sat down heavily.
I read the report again.
My son was mine.
There was no uncertainty.
No doubt.
No reason for any of this.
But the report contained another page.
A handwritten note from the laboratory director.
The submitted sample was accompanied by a request for a second identity verification. The original test was conducted under the supervision of Dr. Samuel Reed.
I recognized the name.
Dr. Reed had been my grandfather's personal physician.
I looked at Daniel.
"Find him.""
Daniel searched his phone.
"He retired two years ago.""
"Where does he live?""
Daniel hesitated.
"Marcus, he's in assisted living. But I can get the address.""
I folded the report.
Then I turned toward Vanessa.
"Why did you tell me Noah wasn't mine?""
She began crying.
"Because my father told me the report was fake.""
"Your father was dead when the report was produced.""
"He had people working for him.""
I looked at her.
"You're still lying.""
She lowered her eyes.
Then she whispered:
"My father told me that if I married you, I would inherit the Sterling fortune.""
I stared.
"What?""
"He said your grandfather had arranged everything. He said Noah would never receive the trust if the Carter family returned.""
I shook my head.
"Why would you need to marry me?""
Vanessa looked toward the safe.
"Because the trust had a second condition.""
"What condition?""
She pulled a document from the black ledger.
It was a copy of the original trust agreement.
I read the final clause.
If Noah was under eighteen and his biological parents were unavailable, control of the trust would pass to the child's appointed guardian.
I looked at Diane.
Then Vanessa.
"Who was appointed guardian?""
Diane whispered:
"Vanessa.""
My blood ran cold.
I looked at the document again.
There was a signature beneath the appointment.
Robert Sterling.
And another signature.
Claire Whitmore.
My mother began crying.
"Your grandfather wanted Vanessa to raise Noah if anything happened to you.""
I stared at her.
"And you knew?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because he believed you would eventually leave the company to start your own family. He wanted someone loyal to the Sterling name.""
I looked toward the hallway.
Noah was standing beside Daniel.
His little face was tired.
He reached for me.
I walked over and lifted him into my arms.
"Daddy?""
"Yes, buddy?""
"Can we go home?""
I kissed his cheek.
"Yes.""
I turned toward the women behind me.
"You're never coming near him again.""
Vanessa collapsed into a chair.
Diane covered her face.
But before I could leave, Daniel called out.
"Marcus.""
I turned.
He was holding the black ledger.
"There's one more page.""
I walked back.
Daniel pointed toward a handwritten entry.
It was dated three days before my grandfather died.
And it contained a name.
*Samuel Reed.*
Beneath it was a note.
The original DNA result must never be shown to Marcus. The second sample was not his.
I stared at the words.
Then I looked at Daniel.
"Whose sample was it?""
He turned the page.
May you like
There was another name.
*Richard Whitmore.*
