Chapter 3 - The Photograph
Ethan took the phone from Emily and stared at the image.
His mother’s face changed.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded.
“That’s your first question?” Ethan said.
Margaret reached for the phone. He stepped back.
“It’s fake.”
“It’s our bedroom.”
“People can fake anything now.”
Emily zoomed in. On the nightstand, the digital clock read 2:14 a.m. The date matched the night Margaret had insisted on staying over because a storm had flooded the road near her condo.
Emily remembered waking to a sound in the hall.
She had assumed it was the old house settling.
“Who sent this?” Ethan asked.
“I don’t know.”
The anonymous address was a string of random numbers.
Margaret straightened her jacket. “I’m done being interrogated.”
“No,” Ethan said. “You’re going to explain why you were in our bedroom.”
“I was looking for aspirin.”
“In my toothbrush drawer?”
Her lips tightened.
Emily looked from the picture to the envelope. “You used his DNA.”
Margaret said nothing.
“You took Ethan’s toothbrush. What did you use for the baby?”
Margaret’s eyes sharpened.
Emily suddenly remembered the prenatal blood draw she’d had at home two days after the storm. A mobile nurse had come because Emily had been nauseated and exhausted.
The woman wore blue scrubs. She had been friendly. Too friendly.
“Ethan,” Emily whispered. “The nurse.”
“What nurse?”
“The home blood draw. She said Dr. Patel ordered extra tubes.”
Ethan stared at Margaret. “Did you send her?”
Margaret’s face remained perfectly still.
That was answer enough.
Ethan pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the police.”
Margaret’s calm broke.
“Don’t be stupid.”
He stopped dialing.
“What did you just say?”
“You call the police, and this becomes public. Reporters will find the paternity result by morning. Investors will see it. The board will see it. Do you really want the entire city asking whose baby your wife is carrying?”
Emily felt sick.
“This was never about protecting him,” she said. “You wanted the accusation to spread.”
Margaret’s eyes moved to her.
For the first time, Emily saw fear behind them.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered on speaker.
A woman whispered, “Mrs. Cole?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Nora Price. I took your blood.”
Emily stopped breathing.
“I need to tell you what Margaret Cole paid me to do.”
May you like
Then there was a crash on the other end.
And the line went dead.
