Chapter 13 - Forty-Eight Hours
Victor was arrested.
For twelve hours, it looked like we had won.
We had not.
His attorneys secured bail pending formal charges because much of the evidence required authentication.
Brittany disappeared before police could detain her.
The board meeting remained scheduled.
Twenty-nine hours left.
Then Victor’s final sentence began poisoning everything.
What else was stored under M-17?
Luka claimed he did not know.
My father did.
I saw it in his face.
“Tell me.”
He looked exhausted.
“M-17 wasn’t only a donor file.”
“What else?”
“A medical profile.”
“For Luka?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
My father looked at Luka.
“Genetic.”
Luka frowned.
“I was healthy.”
“You were nineteen.”
“You had testing before surgery.”
“There was a marker.”
“What marker?”
My father hesitated.
“A rare hereditary cardiac mutation.”
The room went silent.
I looked at Grace.
Luka’s face changed.
“What?”
“It doesn’t mean she has it.”
my father said quickly.
“But if she’s biologically yours, she should be screened.”
I felt panic rise.
Luka crossed the room immediately.
“Get the test.”
He made one call.
No concern about money.
No concern about the board.
Only Grace.
Within hours, a pediatric geneticist arrived.
The probability was explained.
A genetic marker was not a death sentence.
Not even close.
Monitoring existed.
Treatment existed.
Knowledge mattered.
Still, I cried after everyone left.
Luka found me in the nursery.
“I’m sorry.”
I wiped my face.
“For what?”
“If she got this from me—”
“Stop.”
“I should have known.”
“You didn’t create this situation.”
“Neither did you.”
I looked at him.
That truth sat between us.
Neither of us had chosen what happened.
But Grace existed.
Beautiful.
Alive.
Loved.
I could hate the crime without ever allowing her to believe she was the result of something shameful.
“She is not a mistake.”
I said.
Luka nodded.
“No.”
“She can never hear us talk about her like one.”
“She won’t.”
“You promise?”
He looked at Grace.
“On everything I have.”
Later that night, I found Luka asleep in the chair beside her bassinet.
One hand rested near Grace.
Not touching.
Just close.
As if he needed to know she was there.
I covered him with a blanket.
His eyes opened.
“Emma.”
“Go back to sleep.”
“I don’t sleep.”
“You were literally asleep.”
He looked offended.
I smiled.
Then the phone rang.
DNA lab.
Early preliminary findings.
One portion of the analysis was complete.
Derek Holloway was excluded as Grace’s biological father.
Derek had known the result was possible.
Still, when I called him, he said nothing for almost a minute.
Then he whispered,
“I’m sorry.”
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Broken.
The second comparison was still processing.
Grace and Luka.
The result that would change everything.
Before morning, another disaster arrived.
The board’s legal committee moved the meeting forward.
May you like
We no longer had twenty hours.
We had six.
