He pushed the swab away when Sophie slid it across the table. “This is silly.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Scared of what we’ll find? We could be related to some infamous historical figure…”
He gave me a look that meant he found me charming but also mildly exhausting. Then he swabbed his cheek.
Sophie insisted on setting everything up using my email.
“You’re the only one who checks notifications,” she said sheepishly.
So, I sent the tests off and almost forgot about them.
“Scared of what we’ll find?”
Weeks later, at exactly 3:14 AM, my phone lit up the ceiling.
There was a new close family match… for Mark?
I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. I thought maybe I was half-dreaming as I squinted at the screen.
Maya. Daughter. Shared DNA: 50%. Age: 25.
I read it three times. There was no mistake.
There was a new close family match… for Mark?
My husband had a 25-year-old daughter called Maya, but… Mark and I had been married for 25 years. Our kids were 23 and 21.
The math sat there on the screen, patient and indifferent, waiting for me to catch up with it.
Had Mark had an affair when we were newlyweds? I thought back to those times, but he’d always come home on time, had always been affectionate… nothing tracked with an affair.
I didn’t wake him. He was right beside me, breathing slow and even, and I just lay there with the phone face-down on my chest.
I didn’t sleep again. I just waited for the morning.
Mark and I had been married for 25 years.
After he left for work, I went back on the app and clicked on Maya’s profile.
I sat at the kitchen table in my robe with my coffee going cold, and stared at her face for hours. She had the same eyes as Mark, and she had his mother’s nose. She had the same smile as Mark, too.
The DNA said she was his daughter, and she looked like she was his child.
The only missing piece of the puzzle was the “when.” When had Mark been unfaithful to me?
That night, she sent me a message through the app: We need to talk.
The only missing piece of the puzzle was the “when.”
I stared at it for a long time. I thought about not answering. I thought about waking Mark up and holding the phone in front of his face and watching him explain it.
Then I typed back.
Our messages were short at first. She was guarded, and so was I.
Then she wrote, in all capitals, the way people type when they’re past the point of performing calm:
PLEASE COME SEE ME. I’LL TELL YOU EVERYTHING.
She was guarded, and so was I.
The next morning, I told Mark I was visiting my mom for a few days. He kissed my cheek and said to drive safe.
Instead, I packed a bag and drove to the town where Maya had asked to meet.
Halfway there, another message came through.
Please come here instead.
She gave me the name of a hospital.
I didn’t ask questions. I just kept driving.
Another message came through.
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