Chapter 4 - THE TEST SHE ORDERED
Madeline’s paternity petition arrived before Luke was discharged.
She claimed standing as trustee of a family fund established for Brandon’s biological descendants.
The filing alleged “credible evidence” that Luke did not qualify.
Most of the financial sections were sealed.
The public portion included a laboratory report.
PATERNITY EXCLUDED.
Brandon Vance was listed as the tested father.
Luke Vance was listed as the child.
The collection date was six weeks earlier.
Neither of them had knowingly provided samples.
“Where could she get Luke’s DNA?” I asked Rachel Sloan, the family attorney Brandon hired.
“Hair, a cup, a toothbrush. The question is whether the laboratory followed a valid chain of custody.”
“And Brandon’s?”
He looked sick.
“My mother asked me to use a home health kit during an insurance review.”
“You gave her blood?”
“A finger-prick card.”
I stood beside the hospital window, struggling not to shout.
“You let her collect your blood without asking why?”
“She said the family insurer required updated markers.”
“Did you read anything?”
“No.”
The word was quiet.
Brandon had inherited the Vance habit of treating documents as tasks handled by someone lower or older in the hierarchy.
Madeline had used that laziness.
Rachel examined the report.
The laboratory existed, but the test had been ordered through a private legal-services company. The collector for Luke’s sample was listed as M. Vance.
Madeline had signed the chain herself.
“This is not suitable for a court determination,” Rachel said. “It is suitable for frightening people.”
Luke returned home after three days with medication for stomach irritation and a portable heart monitor for one week.
The toxicology laboratory was still working.
Dr. Marsh warned us to return immediately if he fainted, vomited, or became unusually weak.
Luke refused hibiscus tea and anything red.
He also refused blackberry jam.
At dinner, he pushed away chicken because the sauce looked purple.
I nearly told him he had to eat.
Then I saw fear in his face.
“You can have toast,” I said.
Brandon started to object.
I looked at him.
He stopped.
Food had already become a test in Luke’s mind.
We would not create another one.
The court ordered a supervised DNA collection at an accredited laboratory.
Madeline’s attorney opposed testing me, arguing only Brandon’s relationship mattered.
Rachel insisted.
“If samples have been mislabeled or substituted, all three profiles are relevant.”
The judge agreed.
Before the appointment, someone broke into the laboratory’s courier vehicle.
No samples had been collected yet.
Nothing was stolen except blank evidence seals and chain-of-custody labels.
Detective Cole treated the timing seriously.
Madeline called it proof that I was trying to corrupt the process.
Then the toxicology specialist contacted Dr. Marsh.
Luke’s blood contained a plant-derived alkaloid used in an old emetic medicine.
The concentration could cause vomiting, abdominal pain, dangerous heart rhythms, and weakness.
May you like
It did not occur naturally in blackberries.
Someone had given Luke medicine intended to make him violently ill.
