Chapter 7 - The Test Victoria Feared)
The DNA test became the longest twelve hours of Damian's life.
A private laboratory agreed to expedite the analysis under police supervision.
Damian provided a sample.
Emily provided hers.
Then they waited.
By morning, the story had spread across every major news network.
Billionaire Wedding Interrupted by Child Claiming Groom Is Her Father.
Damian ordered his communications team to say nothing about Emily.
No name.
No photograph.
No speculation.
"Protect the children first."
His executives protested.
Vance International shares were already moving.
He ended the meeting.
For once, money felt like the least important thing in the building.
Emily slept until nearly noon.
When she woke, Damian was sitting beside the window.
She looked around.
"Where's Sophie?"
"Breakfast with Nora."
"You stayed?"
"Yes."
"All night?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Damian considered the answer.
"Because I didn't want you to wake up and think I'd disappeared."
Emily looked down.
"Mom used to do that."
"Stay?"
"She'd sit beside us when we were sick."
Damian smiled.
"I'd like to meet her."
Emily's eyes filled.
"Do you think she's dead?"
The question hit him harder than any accusation.
"I don't know."
"Adults say that when they think something bad."
"Sometimes adults say it because they truly don't know."
Emily pulled her knees against her chest.
"If you're my dad, will Sophie have to go away?"
"No."
"But she's not your kid."
"She's your sister."
Emily waited.
Damian understood.
"And if you're my daughter, you're not losing your sister because of me."
"What if I'm not?"
He looked at her.
"Then I'm still helping you find your mother."
"Why?"
"Because someone should have helped you days ago."
Emily studied him.
Then asked, "Did you really love Mom?"
"Very much."
"Why didn't you find her?"
Damian had no answer that did not sound like failure.
"I thought she chose to leave."
"She thought you chose to leave too."
"I know."
"That's stupid."
A laugh escaped him.
It was the first real laugh since the wedding.
"Yes."
Emily almost smiled.
Then she became serious again.
"Mom kept your picture."
Damian looked at her.
"Where?"
"In a book."
"Did she talk about me?"
"Sometimes."
"What did she say?"
"That you laughed too loud."
He smiled.
"Accurate."
"That you hated olives."
"Also accurate."
"That you wanted five kids."
Damian looked down.
"I'd forgotten saying that."
"She didn't."
A knock interrupted them.
Detective Brooks entered.
Her expression was serious.
"We found Claire's phone."
Emily jumped out of bed.
"Where?"
"Trash container behind a warehouse in Brooklyn."
"Was she there?"
"No."
"Blood?"
"No."
Brooks looked at Damian.
"Phone was wiped."
"Can you recover anything?"
"Possibly."
"Any cameras?"
"Working on it."
Emily grabbed the backpack.
"Mom has another phone."
Brooks stopped.
"What?"
"Old one."
"Where?"
"I don't know. She hid it."
"When did she tell you?"
"She didn't. I saw her use it."
Damian crouched.
"Where?"
"Sometimes in the bathroom. She'd turn on the shower."
Brooks wrote quickly.
"Do you know who she called?"
Emily shook her head.
"She called someone M."
Damian and Brooks exchanged a glance.
"How do you know?"
"I saw the screen once."
M.
Marcus.
Margaret.
Maybe someone else.
Damian's phone rang.
The laboratory.
He answered.
"Mr. Vance?"
"Yes."
"We have the result."
Damian looked at Emily.
His heart pounded.
The technician continued.
"The tested probability of biological paternity exceeds 99.99 percent."
Damian stopped hearing the room.
Emily was his daughter.
Not maybe.
Not possibly.
His.
Eight years old.
Eight years of birthdays.
Eight Christmas mornings.
Eight first days of school.
First steps.
First words.
Nightmares.
Fevers.
Lost teeth.
He had missed all of it.
Emily watched his face.
"What?"
Damian could not speak.
"What did they say?"
He lowered the phone.
"They said I'm your father."
Emily did not move.
Neither did he.
Then she whispered, "Really?"
"Really."
Her eyes filled.
Damian crouched.
He did not reach for her.
He let her decide.
Emily took one step.
Then another.
And threw both arms around his neck.
Damian held her.
The grief arrived with the joy.
He buried his face against her hair and cried.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Everything I missed."
"You didn't know."
"I should have."
Emily squeezed him harder.
Then she whispered, "Can I call you Dad?"
Damian's voice failed.
He nodded.
"Yes."
From the doorway, Sophie toddled in.
She looked at Emily hugging Damian.
Then she frowned.
"My Emmy."
Emily laughed through tears.
She pulled Sophie into the embrace.
For a few seconds, three people who had begun the previous day as strangers held one another as though they had been searching for that exact shape their entire lives.
Then Brooks's phone rang.
Her expression changed.
She stepped into the hall.
A minute later she returned.
"Damian."
He stood.
"What?"
"We recovered one deleted message from Claire's phone."
"From whom?"
"We don't know."
"What did it say?"
Brooks looked at Emily before answering.
"Give us the girl and this ends."
Damian's entire body went cold.
"Which girl?"
Brooks shook her head.
"The message doesn't say."
Damian looked at Emily.
Then at Sophie.
May you like
And suddenly he understood that the mystery was no longer only about eight years ago.
Someone wanted one of the children now.
