Ethan’s eyes dropped to the twins’ identifiers.
Noah Mercer.
Lily Mercer.
He felt ashamed of the thought that came next.
A DNA test.
It would be easy.
Unbelievably easy.
One blood sample.
One swab.
A question answered.
He could order genetic screening under medical justification.
He had access.
He had power.
He also knew exactly why using either for personal curiosity would be wrong.
He pushed the thought away.
“No unnecessary testing,” he said.
The nurse nodded.
Ethan closed the chart.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message from his mother.
MOTHER: Your assistant said you’re still at St. Catherine’s. Sunday dinner tomorrow. Richard is flying in.
Ethan stared at the name Richard.
His older brother.
The golden son.
The man who had introduced him to the “evidence” against Hannah five years ago.
Something shifted inside Ethan.
He typed:
I need to ask you something about Hannah Mercer.
