The Truth Charles Buried

Letreya read the message again.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, but she didn't type a reply.

“Who sent this?”” she asked.

Charles extended his hand.

“Give me your phone.””

“No.””

“Letreya.””

“I said no.””

She stepped away from him and held the device against her chest.

The movement was small, but it changed the room. Until then, Charles had treated every conversation as though he could decide when it started, when it ended, and which facts the rest of us were allowed to hear.

Now his wife was refusing to follow his instructions.

And he didn't know what to do with that.

“Someone is trying to manipulate you,” Charles said.

Letreya's mouth tightened.

“Then it should be easy for you to prove them wrong.””

She turned to me.

“Jamiya, did you ever agree to a paternity test?””

“No.””

“Did you ever give Charles permission to take your baby's DNA?””

“No.””

Charles sighed.

“This is ridiculous. A swab isn't some elaborate crime.””

“I didn't ask whether it was elaborate,” I replied.

“I asked whether you tested my son without my permission.””

“I was trying to get answers.””

“You could have asked me.””

“And you would have said yes?””

I stared at him.

“You didn't give me the chance.””

Tiana moved toward the coffee table and set down a glass of water she had brought for me.

“Jamiya, sit for a second.””

“I can't.””

“You're exhausted.””

“I know.””

My legs ached. My arms were sore from holding my son. I hadn't eaten since the previous evening, and every time the baby made a sound, I felt my body tighten with the fear that someone might take him again.

But I couldn't sit down while Charles stood there with another secret tucked behind his teeth.

I needed to know whether the man I had loved had been lying about my child's identity.

I needed to know why he had tried to convince everyone that my son wasn't his.

And I needed to know what had happened the night Marcus disappeared.

“Charles,” I said, “where did you get the DNA sample?””

He looked toward the window.

“From the baby.””

“How?””

“I took a swab.””

“When?””

He didn't answer.

“Where?””

“Jamiya, you're making this more dramatic than it needs to be.””

I took a step toward him.

“Where did you get my baby's DNA?””

He finally looked at me.

“From the hospital.””

My stomach twisted.

“You took something from my son's hospital records?””

“I requested a test.””

“Without telling me?””

“I had questions.””

“Answer mine!””

My voice cracked so sharply that my son woke and began to cry.

I immediately lowered my voice, rocking him against my shoulder.

“It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy's here.””

Tiana touched my back.

“Give him to me for a minute if you need to breathe.””

I shook my head.

“I've got him.””

I kissed his forehead until his crying softened.

Then I turned back to Charles.

“You went behind my back to test my child. You paid Marcus to disappear. You told Jaylen I was lying. And this morning, you let my cousin take my baby because you were afraid I'd tell your wife the truth.””

Charles's face reddened.

“I did not let Jaylen take him.””

Jaylen laughed bitterly.

“You told me to keep the baby away from her.””

“I told you to prevent a confrontation.””

“You said she wasn't stable enough to care for him!””

Letreya looked at Charles with open disbelief.

“You said that?””

Charles didn't respond.

Jaylen pulled up the saved messages.

“I can show you.””

He read aloud.

“‘She'll use that child to destroy everything I've built. Don't let her bring him here until we know the truth.’”

His voice shook as he continued.

“Then you wrote, ‘If she insists on making a scene, take the baby somewhere safe until she calms down.’”

I felt sick.

Charles had never asked whether I was safe.

He had never asked whether I had eaten, whether my baby had slept, or whether I needed help.

He had simply decided that because I was upset, I was a threat.

“You knew I was coming here,” I said.

“Yes.””

“You knew I was going to demand answers.””

“Yes.””

“And you made sure I wouldn't have my son with me.””

Charles's silence was an admission.

I looked down at the baby, whose eyes were half-open beneath his soft lashes.

“I'm never letting you decide what's best for us again.””

Charles's expression hardened.

“You don't get to make that decision alone.””

“I am his mother.””

“And I may be his father.””

“Then act like one.””

He flinched.

For one moment, the room was quiet enough for us to hear a car passing outside.

Then Letreya's phone vibrated again.

This time, the message contained a photograph.

She enlarged it with trembling fingers.

It showed a laboratory report with the same reference number as the document Charles had displayed earlier. The image was slightly crooked, as if someone had photographed the paper on a desk.

At the top was the name of a private laboratory.

Below it were two sample identifiers.

*PATIENT A: CHARLES HARRIS.*

*PATIENT B: INFANT — J.*

Farther down, a line had been highlighted.

*PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 99.97%.*

Letreya made a small, broken sound.

Tiana covered her mouth.

Jaylen stared at the screen.

I couldn't move.

The report appeared to say what I had been telling Charles from the beginning.

But there was a date at the bottom.

The test had been completed six weeks earlier.

Six weeks.

Charles had known.

He had known my baby was almost certainly his son, and he had still sent Jaylen after him.

“Charles,” Letreya whispered, “you knew.””

He stared at the phone.

“It's not that simple.””

“Then make it simple,” she replied.

“Did you know this result existed?””

Charles rubbed his face.

“Yes.””

The single word seemed to drain every remaining bit of warmth from the room.

I felt my knees weaken, and Tiana caught my elbow.

“You knew?”” I whispered.

Charles looked at me.

“I knew the first test showed a high probability.””

“And you still told everyone I was lying?””

“I didn't trust the report.””

“Why?””

“Because I didn't know how the sample had been collected.””

“You collected it!””

“I didn't personally supervise the laboratory!””

His voice rose.

Then he stopped himself and looked at Letreya.

She was staring at him with tears gathering in her eyes.

“You told me the test was inconclusive,” she said.

“The second test was.””

“Why was there a second test?””

Charles looked away.

I felt a chill move through me.

There was another test.

The first one said 99.97 percent.

The second one was inconclusive.

That wasn't a minor detail. It was the difference between a man questioning his paternity and a man hiding evidence that could establish it.

“Show me the second report,” I said.

Charles shook his head.

“I don't have it.””

“Where is it?””

“I said I don't have it.””

Jaylen lifted his phone.

“The investigator mentioned an original report. Maybe he has a copy.””

Charles's face changed.

“Don't contact him.””

“Why not?””

“Because he's not trustworthy.””

“Neither are you,” Jaylen replied.

Letreya moved to the dining table and picked up her handbag.

“I'm calling an attorney.””

Charles stared at her.

“Don't be foolish.””

She stopped and turned around.

“Foolish? I have spent thirty years defending you to people who said you were selfish. I have explained away your absences, your secretive phone calls, and your habit of making every problem somebody else's fault. And now I find out you've been hiding a paternity report while convincing me another woman was lying about your child.””

She swallowed.

“I don't know which part hurts more. What you did to Jamiya or the fact that you thought I would help you do it.””

Charles's face softened.

“Letreya, I never wanted you involved.””

“But you involved me when you asked me to believe your lies.””

She walked into the kitchen.

I heard a drawer open and close.

Then her voice came from the other room.

“Jamiya, I need you to see something.””

I followed her as far as the doorway, keeping my son secure against my chest.

Letreya stood beside the kitchen counter with an old envelope in her hand.

It was addressed to Charles, but the return address belonged to the private laboratory.

The envelope had been opened and resealed with clear tape.

“I found this in his study last month,” she said.

“I thought it was another business document. When I asked him about it, he told me it was a routine medical bill.””

She handed it to me.

Inside was a printed email.

The message was dated two days after the first paternity test.

The sender was the laboratory's client-services department.

Mr. Harris, our records indicate that the submitted infant sample was processed successfully. The preliminary result strongly supports biological paternity. However, due to an administrative discrepancy involving the second sample, we cannot certify the comparison without recollection.

Below that was a handwritten note.

Do not disclose the first result until the second test is completed.

I looked up.

“Who wrote this?””

Letreya shook her head.

“I don't know.””

I turned the paper over.

At the bottom, someone had written a phone number and three words.

Ask about Marcus.

My hands began to tremble.

This wasn't just a story about Charles doubting whether my son was his.

Someone had known the first result. Someone had known the second sample was compromised. And someone had deliberately connected the DNA report to the man who had vanished from my life.

I pulled out my phone and photographed the document.

Then I heard Charles approaching behind us.

“Give me that.””

I stepped away.

“No.””

He reached for the paper, but Letreya moved between us.

“You've taken enough from her.””

Charles stopped.

For a moment, I thought he might try to force his way past her.

Instead, he looked at me.

“You don't understand what you're getting yourself into.””

I held my son closer.