Austin kept asking where Daddy was and when he was coming back, and I had no idea what to tell him.
I could not believe Paul had fallen for Vanessa’s manipulation so easily. But I also could not entirely blame him. She had shown him “proof.”
Hours went by, and all I could think about was Paul and that stupid test. I kept going over possibilities in my mind, trying to figure out how the result could be wrong. One conclusion I reached was that the lab might not be reliable.
I decided to do a test myself.
So, the following day, I submitted samples from myself and Austin to the lab and waited.
A week later, I got an email with the results.
I sat in front of my laptop, hands trembling, and opened the attachment.
Probability of maternity: 0%.
I knew it! I knew that lab was awful! There was no way that could be accurate.
I’d gone through sixteen hours of labor — I was absolutely, without question, his mother.
I printed out the results and headed straight to Vanessa’s house, because I knew Paul was staying there.
When I arrived later, I rang the doorbell again and again, impatiently, until Paul finally opened the door.
“Mary, what are you doing here? I thought I made it clear I don’t want to see you right now.”
I held the test result up in front of him.
“Look. I took a test too, and it says Austin’s not my son either.”
Paul’s expression changed from anger to something close to fear. I had expected shock, maybe relief — but not fear.
“Do you realize what that means?” he asked quietly.
“It means that the lab is a joke.”
“That lab is one of the best. I actually did another test at a second lab. The results were the same,” Paul murmured.
“But I didn’t cheat on you!”
“I believe you now. But you don’t seem to understand what this means,” Paul said slowly.
“What are you talking about?”
“Austin’s not our son,” Paul said.
“No. That’s impossible. The only way that could be true is if the hospital switched him with another baby. But that’s insane. That kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore, right?”
But Paul’s face was serious. Dead serious.
“I think we need to go to the hospital where you gave birth.”
***
Minutes later, we arrived at the hospital and explained the situation to the nurse at the front desk. She walked away to review the files. I was shaking the entire time while we waited.
About thirty minutes later, the nurse returned with the hospital’s chief medical officer.