Dave read directly: “Extended familial markers are inconsistent with a biological parent-child relationship between Robert and me.”
Patricia stood up. “This is absurd. These companies are notorious for mistakes. Robert, say something.”
Robert did.
“How long did you know?”
She stared at him. “I didn’t.”
He let out a harsh, ugly laugh.
“You expect me to believe that?”
She burst into tears instantly. “It was a long time ago.”
Dave went rigid. “A long time ago.”
She turned to him. “David—”
“No.” His voice cracked. “Don’t. Answer me.”
Her chin trembled. “I made a mistake.”
He asked quietly, “So all those years? All those comments about my wife? About my son? You were doing that while knowing this could come out?”
She looked at me then—and I saw it. Not shame. Panic.
“She pushed for the extended test,” Patricia said, pointing at me. “She wanted to humiliate this family.”
I laughed.
“You accused me of cheating for years,” I said. “You tried to use my child to cut him out of the will. You set the table for this.”
Robert slammed his hand down, making the silverware jump.
“Enough.”
Patricia flinched.
He looked at her like a stranger. “You used my illness to force this. You threatened my grandson over inheritance.”
“I was protecting what was ours,” she said weakly.
“Ours?”
Then Dave spoke—and his voice was worse than shouting.
“You spent five years trying to prove Sam wasn’t family.”
She reached for him. “You are my son.”
He stepped back. “That is not what I said.”
She sobbed harder. “I was scared.”
“Of what?” he asked. “Losing money? Losing control?”
“Please don’t do this here,” she pleaded.
“You already did this here,” Robert said coldly.
So I said the only thing that mattered to me.
“This ends tonight. Sam does not hear one word of this. Ever. Not from anybody.”
Robert nodded immediately. “Agreed.”
“You don’t get to say his name.”
She froze.
Then she made one last attempt.
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