Chapter 7: The Secret Behind My Son's Birth
"Margaret may have been hiding a secret about Michael's biological father.""
Daniel's words seemed to echo through the room.
I stared at him.
"Explain yourself.""
He placed the tablet on the coffee table and opened a scanned document.
"Vanessa requested access to archived medical records from the hospital where Margaret received treatment shortly before Michael was born.""
I shook my head.
"Michael was born forty-two years ago. What could possibly be in those records?""
"That's what I want to find out.""
I looked again at the photograph of Vanessa holding the brown envelope.
"DNA results. Do you think she has already taken a test?""
"Possibly. But we shouldn't jump to conclusions.""
I walked toward the window.
Margaret and I had been married for forty-five years. We had survived financial hardship, the death of our parents, the loss of our first business, and countless other difficulties.
I had never questioned Michael's paternity.
Not once.
He had Margaret's eyes, my mother's stubbornness, and the same crooked smile I had seen in my own childhood photographs.
"Daniel, I want the truth.""
"I understand.""
"Find out what Vanessa has discovered. But do it legally.""
Daniel nodded.
"And Richard, there's something else. Edward's name appears in the hospital's archived visitor records.""
I turned around.
"When?""
"Three weeks before Michael was born.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Why was he there?""
"We don't know yet.""
Daniel left to make several calls.
I remained in the living room, staring at Margaret's photograph.
For the first time in forty-five years, I wondered whether the woman I had loved had kept something important from me.
That thought hurt more than my bruised face.
An hour later, Chloe entered carrying a small cardboard box.
"Mr. Anderson, I found something.""
"What is it?""
"Vanessa left this in her bedroom. I think she forgot to take it.""
She placed the box on the table.
Inside were several medical documents, an old photograph, and a sealed envelope.
The photograph showed Margaret standing outside a hospital.
She was visibly pregnant.
Beside her stood Edward.
His arm was around her shoulders.
I stared at the image.
"Where did you find this?""
"Under the lining of Vanessa's jewelry box.""
I picked up the photograph.
On the back, Margaret had written:
November 1983. The last day Edward promised he would stay away.
My hands began trembling.
Michael had been born in December 1983.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photocopy of a DNA report.
The document was several years old.
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
My vision blurred.
The report identified Michael as the biological child of Margaret Anderson and Richard Anderson.
I exhaled sharply.
I read it again.
The result was clear.
Michael was my biological son.
I almost laughed from relief.
Then I noticed something written in red ink at the bottom.
Additional paternal comparison requested — Edward Collins.
There was no second result attached.
Only a reference number.
Chloe watched my face.
"Is it bad?""
"I don't know yet.""
My phone rang.
Daniel.
"Richard, I've spoken to the clinic administrator. Vanessa requested a duplicate of a DNA test conducted six months ago.""
"Whose DNA?""
"Michael's and Edward's.""
I closed my eyes.
"Do they have the results?""
Daniel paused.
"Yes.""
"And?""
"Michael is not Edward's biological son.""
I leaned against the table.
"Then why was she requesting the report?""
"Because the original test was ordered by Edward.""
I stared at the photograph again.
"Why would Edward test his own nephew?""
Daniel's voice became quieter.
"Because he believed Michael was his biological son.""
I couldn't speak.
Daniel continued.
"The test disproved that theory. But there's another detail. Edward's company received a payment from Vanessa two days after the results were released.""
"How much?""
"Fifty thousand dollars.""
I felt sick.
"Why would Vanessa pay him?""
"That's what we're investigating.""
Before I could answer, the front door opened.
Michael walked inside.
His eyes were red, and his shirt was wrinkled.
He looked at the cardboard box.
Then at the photograph in my hand.
"Where did you get that?""
I stood.
"Do you recognize it?""
He nodded slowly.
"Vanessa showed me the DNA report.""
I looked at him.
"What did she tell you?""
He lowered his head.
"She said Edward was my biological father.""
I felt a wave of anger.
"Did you believe her?""
"I didn't know what to believe.""
I placed the DNA report on the table.
"According to this, Edward is not your father.""
Michael stared at the document.
Then he looked at me.
"Then why did Mom hide all this?""
I took a breath.
"Because apparently, your uncle had a very unhealthy obsession with controlling our family.""
Michael sat down.
"There's something I need to tell you.""
I waited.
"Vanessa said she had another document. She told me that if I didn't help her get control of the company, she'd reveal something that would destroy you.""
"What?""
He swallowed.
"She said Mom had been secretly meeting someone before she died.""
I stared at him.
"Who?""
Michael looked directly into my eyes.
"Edward.""
The room went silent.
I remembered Margaret's final months.
Her hospital visits.
The afternoons she spent alone.
The phone calls she sometimes took outside.
I had assumed she was dealing with family matters.
Michael rubbed his face.
"Vanessa said she had proof that Mom and Edward were involved in an affair.""
I felt as though the floor had shifted beneath me.
"Did she show you anything?""
"Just one photograph.""
"Where is it?""
Michael reached into his jacket and removed a folded picture.
I opened it.
It showed Margaret sitting beside Edward in a hospital cafeteria.
Their hands were touching.
They were looking at each other with expressions I couldn't immediately understand.
But the date printed on the back made my blood run cold.
It was taken four days before Margaret died.
Michael whispered:
"Vanessa said she found the photograph in Edward's private files.""
I stared at the image.
Then I noticed something.
Margaret was wearing her wedding ring.
And on the table in front of her was a document with my name written across the top.
A document I had never seen before.
I turned the photograph over again.
May you like
There was a handwritten sentence beneath the date.
Richard must never discover what happened on the night Michael was born.
