The test that shattered my heart.
The thought haunted me for days. I wanted to dismiss it, but the confession gnawed at me. Eventually, I ordered a home DNA test, secretly taking samples from my daughter and me.
When the results arrived, my stomach twisted into knots. 0% probability of paternity.
I stared at the paper, my hands shaking. Every moment I had spent with my daughter — every bedtime story, every scraped knee I had patched up, every whispered “I love you, Daddy” — flashed through my mind. Had it all been a lie?
