Chapter 15 - The Final Heir
Clara stared at the medical report, her breath catching in her throat until her chest burned with unbearable pressure. The paper was dated one week before Arthur Vance had fallen ill, stamped with the seal of the New York State Forensic Pathology Department.
The DNA profile of the child, Leo Vance, was listed on the left.
The DNA profile of Julian Vance was listed in the center—with a 0.00% probability of paternity.
Clara’s hands began to shake violently. She looked at the right column.
Paternal Match: Arthur Vance. 99.98% Confirmation.
Clara dropped the paper onto the table, her mind reeling backward through the memories of that winter storm two years ago, when she had worked late at Arthur's private estate clinic... the medication that had made her dizzy... the night she woke up in the guest bedroom with her clothes displaced, and Arthur sitting at the foot of the bed with a check for two hundred thousand dollars, telling her it was a year-end bonus.
She hadn't known. Julian had claimed the child out of convenience to manipulate his father, and Clara had believed him because she desperately needed an escape from her poverty. Arthur hadn't left the estate to his grandson.
He had left it to his own son.
Suddenly, a loud knock rattled the heavy timber door of the remote cabin.
Clara snatched the pistol Julian had tucked under the driver’s seat earlier, cocking the slide with a sharp metallic snap. She crept toward the door, pressing her eye to the peephole.
Standing on the porch was Eleanor Vance. Her face was bandaged, her arm in a sling, her fine clothes ruined, but her posture was straight, terrifyingly cold, and completely composed.
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Through the heavy oak door, Eleanor’s voice came through, steady and merciless:
""Open the door, Clara. I know whose baby that really is. And now... we need to talk about who actually poisoned my husband."""
