Chapter 10 - THE OTHER CHILD
The photograph had been sitting on my phone the entire time.
Ethan at Patricia's kitchen island.
Apple slices.
Juice.
Plastic dinosaur.
White packet.
But this time I wasn't looking at the countertop.
I was looking at the reflection.
Patricia's kitchen had glass-fronted cabinets.
In one pane behind Ethan, a second small figure appeared.
I enlarged the image.
A child.
Not enough detail to identify a face.
But definitely a child.
“Michael.”
He came beside me.
“What?”
I pointed.
He frowned.
“Who is that?”
“That is what I'm asking.”
He stared longer.
Then his expression changed.
“Oliver.”
“Who?”
“Mom's neighbor's grandson. He's around Ethan's age.”
I had seen Oliver once or twice at Patricia's summer gatherings.
Blond.
Energetic.
Maybe six.
My heart started pounding.
“Was he there that day?”
“I don't know.”
We didn't contact the child.
We didn't contact his family.
I wasn't going to drag another minor into Patricia's mess based on a reflection.
Instead, I searched my old messages.
At 4:02 on May 12, Patricia had sent another text.
Ethan had fun. He and Oliver wore me out!
I stared at it.
There.
Written by Patricia herself.
Oliver had been with Ethan during the afternoon she collected the DNA sample.
Michael sat down heavily.
“You think she swabbed the wrong kid?”
“Maybe accidentally.”
“Or intentionally.”
“Maybe.”
That distinction mattered enormously.
An accidental sample mix-up would make Patricia reckless.
An intentional substitution would make her something else.
We needed evidence before deciding which.
Michael called his mother.
No answer.
He texted:
Was Oliver at your house when you collected Ethan's sample?
The message showed delivered.
No response.
An hour passed.
Then two.
At 6:14 Patricia replied.
Children were visiting that afternoon. I don't remember exact times.
Michael showed me.
“She remembers enough to accuse my wife of cheating but not which child she swabbed?”
I didn't answer.
Because I had noticed something else.
Her response carefully avoided saying Oliver's name.
That still wasn't proof.
But Patricia, who had been certain about everything until now, had suddenly become vague.
I saved the photograph and the message.
Then I backed them up.
The next morning, Robert called.
“Claire, do not contact Oliver's family yet.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good. If another child's biological sample was used without authorization, that raises privacy issues beyond your family dispute.”
“I know.”
“Let your attorney guide this.”
Again, sensible.
Again, slower than my anger wanted.
But slow was better than wrong.
The photograph confirmed one important fact: Ethan wasn't the only child present when Patricia collected the sample.
That gave Sample 418 another possible source.
But it still didn't tell us whether a mistake had occurred.
Or whether Patricia had engineered one.
May you like
A photograph and Patricia's own message confirmed another child was present during the home collection, giving the questionable child sample a second possible source.
In Chapter 11, the laboratory's submission paperwork finally showed whether Patricia had reported any collection problem—and what she declared when she mailed the samples.
