Chapter 13 - The Cruelest Lie
I knew it was a lie.
That did not stop it from hurting.
Graham had always known where to put the knife.
When I got home, Emma was asleep on the couch with her hand curled around Noah’s blanket.
I stood there for a long time.
Then I called Claire’s former obstetrician.
Old records confirmed what I already knew.
I had been at every appointment.
I had cut the cord.
I had held Emma before Claire did.
Biology suddenly felt insultingly small.
Still, Ortiz insisted we test.
Not because Graham deserved the satisfaction.
Because court filings were coming.
The result returned the next morning.
Probability of paternity: 99.999%.
I laughed for the first time in two days.
Then I cried.
Quietly.
In my office.
Alone.
Maria knocked once.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
She sat across from me.
I looked at her. “Why did you stay when Vanessa treated you like that?”
“Because of Emma.”
“You could’ve left.”
“So could you.”
That landed.
I frowned.
She continued, “You were here, but you weren’t here.”
I did not defend myself.
After Claire died, I worked fourteen-hour days.
I told myself I was providing.
Really, I was avoiding the house.
Avoiding memories.
Avoiding grief.
Vanessa had stepped into the space I abandoned.
And Emma had paid for it.
“I should’ve seen it,” I said.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
Maria leaned forward.
“But seeing it late is not the same as refusing to see it now.”
My phone buzzed.
Ortiz.
She had found the source of Graham’s paternity claim.
A forged lab report.
Created six months earlier.
Again signed by Dr. Hartley.
Graham had prepared it before Vanessa ever threatened Emma.
Which meant this wasn’t improvisation.
It was a plan.
A long one.
Then Ortiz sent another document.
A life insurance policy on me.
Ten million dollars.
Beneficiary: Vanessa Sterling.
Opened eight months ago.
I called her hospital room.
She answered.
“Did you know about the policy?”
Silence.
“Vanessa.”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me again.”
“I’m not.”
“Your signature is on it.”
“My signature is on a lot of things Graham put in front of me.”
I almost hung up.
Then she said, “Adrian, look at the medical exam date.”
I opened the file.
The required exam had been completed at Hartley Neurological Center.
I had never been there.
May you like
Vanessa whispered, “He wasn’t planning to take your money.”
“He was planning to take me.”
