Alex’s hands trembled so violently the paper almost slipped from his fingers.

“What does it say?” I whispered.

But he didn’t answer me.

He kept staring at the second page of the report like the words were rearranging themselves every time he blinked.

Then Diane suddenly stepped forward.

“Let me see that.”

Her voice cracked.

Not confident anymore.
Not smug.
Afraid.

Alex hesitated for one strange second before handing her the results.

The moment her eyes landed on the page, all the color drained from her face.

“No…” she whispered.

It was barely audible.

Like someone speaking at a funeral.

I stood up slowly from the couch, my heart hammering now for a completely different reason.

“What is going on?”

Neither of them answered.

Alex finally looked at me again, but this time there was something broken in his expression.

Not anger.

Not suspicion.

Confusion.

Horror.

“You were telling the truth,” he said quietly.

“I know I was.”

“No…” he interrupted, shaking his head violently. “You don’t understand.”

He swallowed hard.

Then he turned the DNA report around and pointed at a highlighted section near the bottom.

At first, the words didn’t fully register.

Probability of paternity: 0%.

My stomach dropped.

For one horrifying second, my brain stopped functioning.

I grabbed the paper from his hands.

I read it again.

And again.

0%.

“That’s impossible.”

The room started spinning.

“She’s your daughter,” I whispered. “Alex, I have never been with anyone else.”