Everyone froze as Philip's words hung in the air. The DNA results were ready.
I kept my eyes fixed on Fiona, watching as the perfect mask she'd crafted slipped. Fear flickered across her face—raw and unfiltered—before she quickly composed herself.
"What nonsense is this?" she demanded, voice trembling slightly. "What DNA test?"
Philip approached, holding out a sealed envelope. "The comparison between the embryonic tissue and Mr. Sterling's DNA, ma'am."
Caleb snatched the envelope before I could reach for it. "This is absurd! I don't need a test to know my own child!"
But his fingers were shaking as he tore open the envelope. His eyes scanned the document, widening with each passing second.
"This... this can't be right," he whispered.
Arthur moved beside me, a steady presence as the storm broke around us.
"What does it say?" my mother demanded, peering over Caleb's shoulder.
I already knew. I could read it in the devastation spreading across Caleb's face.
