Chapter 5 - The Laboratory Verdict
The next twenty-four hours were a blur of nervous exhaustion. I remained at my university apartment, unable to focus on my mathematics problem sheets for the first time in my life. The numbers on the page seemed to rearrange themselves into the shape of Victoria Vance’s eyes.
At exactly four o'clock the following afternoon, a black town car arrived outside my building. The driver delivered a single, sealed envelope made of heavy, cream-colored paper.
I sat at my small wooden table, my hands shaking as I broke the wax seal.
Genomics Research Institute of New York: Familial Verification Report. Subject A: Victoria Helen Vance Subject B: Emily (NMN) Mercer
My eyes skipped past the dense columns of genetic markers, alleles, and statistical probabilities, landing on the final sentence at the bottom of the page:
The probability of maternal relationship is 99.9998%. The data confirms that Subject A is the biological mother of Subject B.
A sound escaped my throat—a mix of a sob and a laugh. I wasn't a Mercer. I had never been a Mercer. The blood running through my veins didn't belong to the monsters who had locked me in the cold; it belonged to a lineage of resilience, intelligence, and power.
My phone rang. It was an unknown number, but I answered immediately.
"Emily," Victoria's voice came through the speaker, steady but vibrating with an undercurrent of profound emotion. "You've read it?"
"Yes," I said, tears blurring my vision. "It's true."
"I am outside," she said simply.
I ran down the stairs of the apartment building. The moment I breached the front doors, Victoria was there, stepping out of her vehicle. For the first time, she didn't maintain a professional distance. She pulled me into an embrace that smelled of expensive cedarwood and warmth—a mother’s embrace that I had spent eighteen years begging for in the dark.
"I am so sorry I didn't find you sooner," she whispered into my hair. "I am so sorry for every night you spent on that balcony."
"You found me now," I said, holding onto her jacket.
"We have a great deal of work to do," Victoria said, pulling back and wiping a tear from my cheek with her thumb. "My legal analysts have spent the night reviewing Mercer Construction's federal tax filings and state contract bids. Richard Mercer has been using his company to launder money for the illegal adoption ring that operated out of Cook County. He didn't just buy you, Emily. He helped finance the entire operation to ensure other wealthy families could purchase children like commodities."
The scope of the crime was staggering. It wasn't just child abuse; it was organized human trafficking, corporate fraud, and federal racketeering.
"They think they've won," I said, remembering my mother's words about sending my earnings to Tyler's bank account. "They think I'm working at the auto-parts factory right now."
"Let them think that," Victoria said, her eyes turning into chips of blue ice. "My lawyers have coordinated with the FBI Chicago Field Office. The federal warrants have been signed by a judge this morning. But we aren't going to arrest Richard at his office. We aren't going to arrest Diane at her country club."
May you like
"The graduation celebration," I realized, a sense of poetic justice washing over me.
"The Drake Hotel. Next Saturday night," Victoria confirmed. "Tyler Mercer will receive his celebration. But it will be the last party the Mercer family ever hosts."
