And at the same time, I was holding her child.
My granddaughter.
The doctor quietly interrupted.
“There is still one issue.”
I looked up.
“The DNA result.”
He held up the report.
“The first test wasn’t a mistake.”
My heart stopped.
“You are Lucy’s biological grandmother.”
I frowned.
“But it says parent-child match.”
He nodded.
“That’s because of the way the lab processed the sample.”
He explained that the preliminary test had been run against my sample as a direct maternity comparison because my name had been entered as the emergency guardian.
The result was so strong that the system initially flagged me as the mother.
But the full analysis showed something else.
Lucy shared half of her maternal genetic markers with me.
She was my granddaughter.
Not my daughter.
The report had been misinterpreted because of an administrative error.
I almost laughed through my tears.
“So I’m not 51 and secretly giving birth.”
