“They are Bradfords,” the old man murmured.

“That is impossible,” Vivian gasped, stepping forward, her heels clicking sharply on the hardwood border. “We don’t know where she has been, or who she has been with.”

“Look at them, Vivian,” Grandfather Bradford snapped, his hand tightening on his cane. “Only a blind fool would deny it.”

Garrett gripped the back of his grandfather’s chair, his knuckles turning white.

“I want a DNA test,” Garrett said, his voice rising again. “I want it done today, by an independent lab.”

He pointed a finger at me.

“If they are mine, I have rights,” Garrett said. “And if they aren’t, I want her prosecuted for fraud.”

I looked at Garrett, feeling nothing but cold pity.

This was the man I had once loved, now reduced to a desperate heir fighting for his fading status.

“I have no objection to a DNA test, Garrett,” I said quietly.

“Good,” Garrett said. “We will have a doctor here within the hour.”

“However,” Arthur Vance interrupted, stepping between us. “There are other matters that require immediate attention.”