Brian's DNA results sat untouched on the sleek, glass-topped table between Mrs. Charles and Mr. Rowland in the dimly lit café. Outside, rain drizzled against the window, streaking down in uneven lines that distorted the view of the bustling city. Inside, the atmosphere was far more volatile, the air between the two crackling with tension as each exchange became a calculated move in a high-stakes game.
The envelope, stark white against the dark table, seemed almost alive with the weight of its contents. It carried truths capable of upending lives, and for Mrs. Charles, those truths were unthinkable.
