Chapter 2 - The Test They Hid
I locked the doors.
The figure walking toward my car was a woman.
Late forties.
Dark coat.
Gray streak through black hair.
She stopped several feet from my window and raised both hands.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
Lily slept behind me.
I lowered the window barely an inch.
"Who are you?"
"Dr. Evelyn Ross."
The name meant nothing to me.
She glanced at the passing traffic.
"I ran your daughter's genetic test."
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"You took a sample from my child without my consent."
Her expression changed.
"Yes."
"That's illegal."
"I know."
"Then why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't."
That answer surprised me.
"But you need to hear what they were trying to prove."
I looked behind her.
The SUV appeared empty.
"Get in the passenger side. Slowly."
Evelyn did.
The moment she closed the door, she placed a sealed envelope on the dashboard.
"I kept a duplicate."
"Why?"
"Because Patricia asked me to alter the results."
My stomach tightened.
"Alter them how?"
"She wanted the report to suggest the developmental marker came from your side of the family."
I stared at her.
"But it didn't."
"No."
"Where did it come from?"
Evelyn looked directly at me.
"Daniel."
The answer should have been simple.
It wasn't.
Something in her expression warned me.
"What aren't you saying?"
"The marker itself isn't dangerous. That's the first thing you need to understand."
"Then why does Patricia care?"
"Because it connects Lily to something Patricia spent thirty years hiding."
I almost laughed from disbelief.
"She's two."
"This isn't about Lily."
"Then who?"
Evelyn's phone vibrated.
She ignored it.
"Daniel has an inherited chromosomal variation. In most people it causes no serious medical problem. In Lily, it may partially explain her speech delay."
I nodded slowly.
"So?"
"So Daniel isn't the first Mercer child who had it."
My anger shifted into confusion.
"I've never heard of anyone."
"That's because Patricia made sure you wouldn't."
Evelyn opened the envelope.
Inside were photocopies.
Birth certificates.
Medical summaries.
A photograph of a little boy.
He looked about four.
Dark hair.
Big glasses.
There was something familiar about his face.
"Who is he?"
"Daniel's older brother."
I stared at her.
"Daniel doesn't have an older brother."
"He did."
The word did settled heavily between us.
"What happened?"
"He died when Daniel was six."
I searched my memory.
Five years of marriage.
Hundreds of family dinners.
Old albums.
Childhood stories.
Daniel had one older brother, Mark, who was very much alive.
No dead sibling had ever been mentioned.
Evelyn pointed at the photo.
"His name was Thomas."
"Why would Daniel hide that from me?"
"He may not remember much."
"You said he was six."
"Children can be persuaded not to remember things the way they happened."
My skin prickled.
"What happened to Thomas?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"Officially? Pneumonia."
"And unofficially?"
"I don't know."
I looked at Lily.
She slept peacefully.
"How does any of this explain Patricia hurting my daughter?"
"Because when Patricia saw Lily's developmental delays, she recognized them."
"From Thomas."
Evelyn nodded.
"And she panicked."
"Why?"
"That's the question you need to ask Daniel's father."
"Robert?"
"Not Patricia."
"Why him?"
"Because Robert was the one who stopped me from changing the report."
That surprised me.
"Daniel's father knows?"
"He came to my office the morning after Patricia demanded the alteration."
"What did he say?"
Evelyn looked down.
"He said, 'I let her erase one child. I won't let her erase another.'"
My heart seemed to stop.
"What does that mean?"
"I never got the chance to ask."
Evelyn's phone vibrated again.
This time she checked it.
Her face drained.
"What?"
She turned the screen toward me.
A security alert.
Someone had entered her clinic.
"Do you have cameras?"
"Yes."
She opened the feed.
A man wearing a baseball cap moved through a hallway.
He went directly toward an office.
Not searching.
He knew where he was going.
Evelyn whispered, "They're after the original files."
"Who is that?"
"I can't see his face."
Then he looked up.
Evelyn inhaled sharply.
I knew him.
Daniel's brother.
Mark.
I stared at the video.
"Why is Mark breaking into your clinic?"
Evelyn closed the app.
"Because Patricia doesn't trust anyone anymore."
I started the car.
"Where are you going?"
"To my sister's."
"No."
"Then where?"
Evelyn considered me.
"Do you have somewhere Daniel doesn't know about?"
I thought of my mother's old house.
She'd died four years earlier.
Daniel had been there maybe twice.
It was forty minutes away.
"Yes."
"Go there."
The drive felt endless.
When Lily woke, I gave her crackers and sang the song she liked.
Evelyn sat silently beside me.
Every few minutes she checked behind us.
Nobody appeared to follow.
At my mother's house, I carried Lily inside.
The place smelled closed and dusty.
I hadn't slept there since selling most of Mom's furniture.
But utilities were still active because I had never brought myself to put the property on the market.
Evelyn spread documents across the kitchen table.
Thomas Mercer.
Born 1991.
Developmental delay noted at eighteen months.
Speech delay.
Motor coordination concerns.
Repeated evaluation.
Then suddenly, at age four, almost no records.
"What happened after this?"
"Patricia changed doctors."
"Why?"
"Nobody knows."
I turned another page.
A photograph showed Thomas sitting beside six-year-old Mark and baby Daniel.
Patricia stood behind them.
Robert beside her.
Patricia wasn't smiling.
She was staring down at Thomas.
The same expression I'd seen when she looked at Lily.
Not dislike.
Shame.
My phone vibrated.
Daniel.
This time I answered.
"Where are you?"
"Why did you secretly test our daughter?"
Silence.
"Claire—"
"Answer."
"My mother convinced me."
"Why?"
"She thought..."
"What?"
"She thought Lily's delays might be inherited."
"From me."
He didn't answer.
"She wanted proof that there was something wrong with my family."
"I didn't know she was going to use it against you."
"You gave her our daughter's DNA."
"I'm sorry."
"That's not enough."
"I know."
"Did you have a brother named Thomas?"
The silence changed.
Daniel stopped breathing.
"Where did you hear that name?"
"Did you?"
"Claire."
"Answer me."
His voice dropped.
"Yes."
"What happened to him?"
"I was little."
"What happened?"
"He got sick."
"What kind of sick?"
"I don't know."
"Your mother erased him from the family."
"Don't say that."
"Why?"
"Because you don't understand."
"Then explain it."
Daniel breathed heavily.
"When Thomas started having problems, my mother became obsessed."
"With what?"
"Making him normal."
A cold feeling crept through me.
"How?"
"I don't remember everything."
"Try."
"Doctors. Programs. Treatments."
"What treatments?"
"I said I don't know."
Evelyn was watching me.
"Daniel, your brother didn't die from pneumonia, did he?"
The line went silent.
Then I heard something faint.
A woman in the background.
Patricia.
Daniel said, "I have to go."
"Don't hang up."
"Claire, listen to me."
"What?"
"If you're with Dr. Ross, leave."
I looked at Evelyn.
"Why?"
"Because Mark found something tonight."
"What?"
"You need to get Lily somewhere safe."
"Daniel—"
The call disconnected.
Evelyn stood.
"What did he say?"
Before I could answer, headlights swept across the kitchen wall.
A vehicle entered the driveway.
Evelyn moved to the window.
"Is that Daniel?"
"No."
I recognized the truck.
Robert Mercer.
Daniel's father.
He stepped out alone.
I opened the door before Evelyn could stop me.
Robert looked exhausted.
He held a battered cardboard box.
"I know about Thomas," I said.
His shoulders dropped.
"Then we're too late."
"Too late for what?"
He walked inside.
The box contained documents.
Old VHS tapes.
Photographs.
A child's notebook.
Robert sat at my mother's kitchen table.
"I should have stopped Patricia thirty years ago."
"Stopped what?"
His eyes filled.
"She believed Thomas was ruining the family."
I felt sick.
"What did she do?"
"She found a private clinic."
Evelyn whispered, "Robert."
He looked at her.
"You know the name?"
"No."
Robert reached into the box.
He removed a faded brochure.
HARTWELL CHILD DEVELOPMENT INSTITUTE.
Evelyn went pale.
"I thought that place closed after the investigation."
"What investigation?" I asked.
Robert looked at me.
"Three children were permanently injured."
My hand went to Lily.
"And Thomas?"
Robert couldn't look at me.
"He was the fourth."
Silence filled the kitchen.
Then something moved outside.
A shadow passed the window.
Robert stood sharply.
"Did anyone follow you?"
"No."
The back door handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
Then the lock clicked.
Robert whispered, "Claire, take Lily upstairs."
May you like
The door slowly opened.
And Daniel stepped inside holding something covered in blood.
