Chapter 1: The Paternity Test Secret

When my son turned three, he still didn’t look a thing like me.

It was the kind of doubt that crept up on me in the quiet—like catching my own reflection in the bathroom mirror while I brushed his teeth, or scrolling through photos of us and not seeing even a hint of myself in his face. At first, it was just a whisper. But it grew, until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

I did it in secret—a paternity test.

I remember sitting in my car outside the lab, hands trembling as I tore open the envelope. No biological connection. Not between me and my son. But between him and his supposed father? A perfect match. The words hit like a punch to the gut. I sat there a long time. Engine running. Until the shock settled into a cold, steady ache.

"Ethan’s folks don’t know the whole story."

A waiter pulled the door shut. The PI started talking. His voice was calm, almost clinical, but I could feel his eyes on me, waiting to see if I’d crack.

He meant Ethan—my husband of five years.

I poured him a cup of coffee and slid it across the table, saying nothing. The mug rattled slightly against the saucer. I kept my face blank. No way I was letting the PI see the storm inside me.

I’d already burned through the shock, the anger, the despair, even the wild hope. Now, whatever news I heard, I could face calmly. Or so I told myself. My hands were still cold, my chest tight, but I nodded for him to keep going.

Three days ago—just one day after Mason’s paternity results—the PI found my biological son.

We didn’t have the test results yet, but judging by his age and how much he looked like me, there was almost no doubt. The PI had shown me a grainy photo on his phone. My breath caught—the boy looked so much like I did at that age, it was almost eerie.

All this time, my in-laws had been raising him.

Three years. Not once had I seen him. Not even a glimpse at family gatherings, not a hint on video calls. The secrecy wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate. Almost chilling.

Ethan’s hometown’s a thousand miles from Maple Heights.

We only visited at Thanksgiving.

Every time we went back, they’d send the kid off to a relative’s place for a few days. He’d come back only after we left. I used to think it was just family chaos—now I saw it for what it was: a calculated cover-up.

Looking back, this was probably why they refused to move to Maple Heights. It wasn’t just that they were “reluctant to leave their hometown.”

At least they’d taken care of him.

That let me relax a bit. I wasn’t in a rush to bring him back. I told myself he was safe, loved, even if it wasn’t by me. Still, the thought kept me up at night. Every night.

"They only know he’s Ethan’s son with another woman. As for who the woman is, the old couple has no idea."

The PI finished and looked at me. "I’ve got people over there investigating Ethan’s connections and keeping an eye on the child."

I nodded. "So, any news from the hospital?"

"That day, twelve babies were born. We’ve checked the other eleven mothers’ information, but it’ll take time to figure out which one we’re looking for."

"You got photos of those mothers?"

"Yeah, I do." The investigator took out a flash drive. He slid it across the table, fingers lingering a second, like he was offering silent support.

I plugged it into my laptop and clicked through the folder, photo by photo. Each face was a possible answer, every click a step closer to the truth.

"Who’s this?"

The woman in the photo had a delicate face, big eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and thin lips with a cupid’s bow. She was fragile-looking, the kind who pulled at your instinct to protect.

Mason’s nose and mouth looked a lot like hers. My stomach twisted. I stared at the screen, tracing the features with my eyes.

"Her name’s Lauren Chen. She’s an actress, probably C-list at best.

"She had a C-section back then, and her partner never showed up at the hospital.

"I sometimes follow celebrity news. If it weren’t for this investigation, I wouldn’t even know she had a kid. She kept it under wraps."

"Check her out first." I tapped her photo. My voice sounded steadier than I felt.