Chương 8
Claire glanced toward the doorway.
Noah and Eli were laughing at something in the common room.
She whispered, “Mine?”
Daniel leaned toward the tablet.
“Why are we assuming Claire is—”
Mara looked at him.
“If they are twins, whose would he be?”
Daniel stopped.
Claire’s stomach turned.
There were levels of truth she had not allowed herself to approach.
If Eli was not merely Noah’s brother.
If Eli was her son.
Her body reacted before her mind did.
She pressed a hand to her abdomen.
A room.
Two bassinets.
Except she remembered only one.
Noah under blue hospital light, tiny and furious, his mouth opening around a cry she could barely hear because she was still groggy from anesthesia.
Daniel beside her.
A nurse saying, He’s doing fine.
Another voice in the hallway.
Not words.
A woman crying.
Claire closed her eyes.
Mara noticed.
“What?”
“I remembered something.”
Daniel stiffened.
“What?”
“I don’t know if it’s real.”
“Tell us.”
Claire rubbed her arms.
“When I woke up after surgery, I heard someone crying outside the room.”
Jo said gently, “That could have been anyone.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
“A nurse said something about identification bands.”
Daniel’s face changed.
Claire looked at him.
“You remember that.”
He looked away.
“Daniel.”
“There was a nurse who came in twice to check Noah’s ankle tag.”
“You never told me.”
“I forgot.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
Claire stood.
Mara said, “Both of you need to stop treating memory like evidence. Hospital stays are confusing. Sedation affects recall. Stress affects recall.”
Claire sat back down.
She hated her sister for being sensible.
Mara continued, “We get the records. We get lawful DNA testing. We figure out Rachel’s identity. Then we decide what truth we actually have.”
That evening, Claire brought Noah home.
He was quiet in the back seat.
Daniel was waiting in the kitchen.
Noah walked past him.
“Hey.”
Noah stopped.
Daniel held out a small cardboard box.
“What’s that?”
“Your birthday gift.”
“The other one got smashed.”
“This isn’t the other one.”
Noah opened it.
Inside was a chess clock.
He had wanted one for months.
Noah looked at it without smiling.
“Thanks.”
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck.
“I know the last two days have been—”
Noah closed the box.
“Did you lose Eli?”
Daniel went still.
Claire turned from the counter.
“What?”
Noah looked at his father.
“When I was born. Did you lose him?”
Daniel’s face crumpled for only a second.
“No.”
“You said you knew there was another number.”
“I knew there was a mistake.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Claire watched her son.
He had become older in forty-eight hours in ways she did not want.
Daniel pulled out a chair.
“I didn’t know there was a child.”
“But you thought maybe.”
Daniel nodded.
“Maybe.”
“And you stopped checking.”
“Yes.”
Noah looked at the chess clock.
“If it was me, would you have stopped?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Claire wanted to intervene.
She did not.
“No,” Daniel said.
Noah nodded once.
“That’s what I thought.”
He left the kitchen.
Daniel sat down.
Claire stood at the sink with the faucet running over her hand.
Neither of them noticed until water began spilling from a glass she was not washing.
Daniel got up and turned off the tap.
Claire stared at the overflowing glass.
“I hate you a little.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“That makes me hate you more.”
He almost smiled.
She did too.
Then neither did.
Two days later, child welfare authorized DNA collection after Mara helped ensure that Eli had independent representation and that the testing was not controlled by the Bennetts.
Claire appreciated the safeguard.
Daniel resented it.
That difference caused their first real fight.
“You think we’re suspects,” he told Mara.
“You should want everyone treated as a potential source of bias.”
“I’m his possible father.”
“That is exactly why.”
Claire sat between them at Mara’s dining table and ate cold noodles from a takeout carton.
Noah and Eli were in the living room building something with plastic blocks.
Claire said, “She’s right.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You don’t trust me.”
“No.”
The word hung there.
Mara stopped eating.
Daniel’s face changed.
Claire wanted to soften it.
She didn’t.
“I trust you with Noah,” she said. “I trust you to love him. I trust you to take care of me if I’m sick. I trust you not to cheat on me. I trust you with money.”
Mara looked down at her noodles.
Claire continued.
“I do not trust you with information you think will scare me.”
Daniel absorbed that.
“That’s fair.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that.”
“What would you prefer?”
“I don’t know. Fight.”
“About what?”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re not.”
Claire put down her fork.
“See? That. That’s infuriating.”
Mara raised a hand.
“I’m going to pretend I’m not here.”
“You invited us,” Daniel said.
“I invited a legal conversation. You brought your marriage.”
From the living room, Eli shouted, “Noah cheated!”
Noah shouted back, “There are no rules!”
“That’s cheating!”
“It can’t be cheating if there are no rules!”
Mara pointed toward the sound.
“Your genetic question may have answered itself.”
Claire laughed.
She did not mean to.
Daniel laughed too.
For thirty seconds, they were simply tired adults in a house with children arguing over blocks.
Then Claire began crying.
Quietly.
No warning.
She covered her face.
Daniel reached toward her and stopped before touching her.
She noticed.
After a moment, Claire leaned into his hand herself.
The DNA results came four days later.
Mara made them gather in a neutral office.
Claire hated the office immediately.
Gray carpet. Fake plant. Tissue box positioned too deliberately on the table.
Noah was at school.
Eli was with Jo and his advocate in another room. The adults had agreed the children would not sit through the technical explanation.
The genetic counselor opened the report.
May you like
Claire stared at the woman’s lips.
“Testing establishes with greater than 99.99 percent probability that Claire Bennett is the biological mother of both Noah Bennett and Eli Mercer.”
