Why she had watched me with suspicion.
Why she had seemed afraid of Paisley.
She whispered:
“Your mother had an affair with my husband.”
“My father?”
“No.”
I stared.
“Then who?”
Rosalyn’s voice broke.
“Trevor’s father.”
The room fell silent.
“Trevor’s father was the man who owned the fertility clinic.”
I remembered the clinic.
The research study.
The stolen samples.
The hidden records.
My father hadn’t created Paisley.
Someone else had.
Someone who had been experimenting with genetic material.
Someone who had used my DNA without consent.
And Trevor had spent years trying to expose him.
Then I realized something else.
“Where is my father?”
Rosalyn looked at me.
“He went to confront him.”
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Daniel.”
I ran.
I found my father at the old clinic.
He was standing in the hallway.
Daniel was across from him.
Trevor was there too.
Three men.
