Chapter 12 - The Stolen DNA
Before I could demand an explanation, my mobile phone rang. It was Dr. Harrison’s former laboratory assistant from St. Catherine's Hospital—the woman who had processed Maya’s emergency marrow transplant six months prior.
"Mr. Miller," she stammered, her voice frantic, whispering as if hiding in a closet. "I’m breaking non-disclosure agreements by calling you, but you need to leave Florida immediately. The court-ordered DNA re-sequencing from the federal investigation just came back from the state lab."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded, holding the phone tightly to my ear. "The marrow match was 10 out of 10. Maya saved Sarah’s life!"
"The marrow matched because Sarah and Maya share direct maternal DNA," the assistant gasped. "But the paternal markers... Mr. Miller, you aren't Maya's biological father. And according to the federal database, the paternal DNA matches a missing government informant who disappeared in Chicago... three years ago."
The world tilted on its axis.
I turned around to look into the living room. Sarah was gone.
The front door stood wide open, swaying gently in the humid ocean draft. Maya was sitting alone on the rug, holding her teddy bear, tears filling her hazel eyes.
May you like
On the kitchen island lay a freshly written note in Sarah’s elegant handwriting, pinned under a heavy kitchen knife:
Charles, I’m sorry. I loved you enough to let you believe she was yours. But the monsters who built Project 804 have found us. If you follow me, they will kill Maya. Look under the floorboards of our old Chicago house. God forgive me.
