On the screen, columns of numbers and percentages filled the page.

Ethan scrolled down to the summary paragraph.

He stopped.

His brow furrowed, and he leaned closer to the screen.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he said.

He pointed a finger at the glass.

“The maternal marker is yours, Maria,” he said.

I nodded slowly, unable to speak.

“But the paternal marker does not match my father,” Ethan said.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with confusion.

“It says there is zero percent probability of paternity with Arthur Cole.”

I felt a strange mixture of relief and terror wash over me.

“But look at this second line,” Ethan said, his voice dropping.

He scrolled further down the page to a secondary analysis.

“The lab flagged a partial familial match within the database,” he said.

He read the words aloud, very slowly.

“The paternal DNA shares a fifty percent match with my father’s lineage.”

He stared at the screen, his hand freezing on the mouse.

“That means the father is a sibling of Arthur Cole,” Ethan whispered.

The room became perfectly still.