Chapter 2 - Zero Percent
Ethan read the line twice.
Then a third time.
The paper might as well have been on fire.
“No,” Emily said. “That’s not real.”
Margaret folded her arms. “Of course she’d say that.”
Ethan looked up slowly. “Where did you get this?”
“A private lab.”
“You tested my unborn child without telling us?”
“I protected you.”
“You assaulted my wife and stole her medical information.”
Margaret’s confidence flickered, but only for a second. “Ask her why she’s crying.”
Emily wiped her face with the heel of her hand. “I’m crying because I knew you’d do something like this.”
Ethan turned to her. “What does that mean?”
She swallowed.
“Three weeks ago, Margaret told me I should get a prenatal paternity test.”
Margaret snapped, “I suggested nothing.”
“You told me rich men get trapped every day. You said Ethan deserved certainty.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
Emily continued. “I hated the idea. But you kept bringing it up. So I talked to Dr. Patel. Ethan, I already did a legally documented test.”
His eyes widened. “You did?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“The result was 99.99 percent. You’re the father.”
The kitchen went silent.
Margaret laughed. “Convenient.”
Emily reached for her phone. “The result is in my patient portal. I’ll show you.”
Her fingers moved too fast, slipping twice on the screen. She logged in, opened the test results, and stopped.
The report was gone.
She stared.
“What?” Ethan asked.
“It was here.”
Margaret’s smile returned.
Emily searched again. Nothing.
“Call the doctor,” Ethan said.
Emily did. The after-hours service picked up.
“This is Emily Cole. I need access to a prenatal paternity report from three weeks ago.”
The operator paused.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cole. I don’t see any paternity test in your chart.”
Emily’s mouth went dry.
“That’s impossible.”
Margaret moved toward the door. “I think I’ve done enough for one evening.”
Ethan blocked her path.
“You’re not leaving.”
Margaret smiled up at him. “Are you sure you want me to stay while your wife explains why a test she swears existed has vanished?”
Emily gripped the counter.
Then her phone chimed.
A new email had arrived from an unknown address.
She opened it.
May you like
There was no message. Only a photograph.
It showed Margaret standing inside Emily’s bedroom three nights earlier, holding Ethan’s electric toothbrush in one hand and a clear evidence bag in the other.
