Ten years into my marriage, I, Hugh Baker, stumbled upon a paternity test on my wife's computer, something I'd never known existed. It declared that the son I'd raised for a decade, Zack Baker, wasn't my biological child. "Honey, what are you still doing in the study so late?" It was Lilith Wells, my wife. Her voice startled me. In a panic, I closed the document, but she had already seen it. She looked at me with a dark expression. "Don't you trust me, honey?" I opened the paternity test report and confronted her about it. But she immediately shut down the computer and turned the tables on me, accusing me of not respecting her privacy. Watching her walk away, I realized how strange our ten-year marriage had become. I calmly opened the drawer and tore up the tenth-anniversary gift I had prepared long ago. ... I pulled open the bottom drawer, where a signed share transfer agreement was kept. I had planned to give her 15% of the company on our wedding anniversary tomorrow as a tenth-year gift. But now, it seemed unnecessary. I took out the document and tore it apart, piece by piece. The scraps fell into the trash, mixing with the wrapping paper for the anniversary gift I had prepared. I looked at those gifts again. The joy I once felt was gone. All that remained was nausea. When I returned to the bedroom, Lilith was already in bed, as if nothing had happened. I stood at the door for a long time, watching her sleeping back, then turned and went to the guest room. I didn't sleep all night. The next morning, I was woken up by Lilith. The next morning, Lilith woke me with a sharp knock. She stood at the guest room door, anger written all over her face. “Hugh, what’s this supposed to mean? Sleeping in the guest room?” I sat up and looked at her. It's a face I had seen for ten years, yet now it felt completely unfamiliar. "I need some space." Her face turned red, and she stormed off in a huff. "Like I care." After Lilith went to work, I made breakfast as usual. Zack sat at the dining table, drinking milk. "Dad, you look pale." I stroked his hair, soft and slightly curly, just like Lilith's. Over the years, many people had said that they looked alike. "I didn't sleep well last night. Hurry up and eat, or you'll be late." On the way to school, my mind kept drifting. At a red light, I turned around and pretended to fix his collar. From the back of his head, I plucked a strand of hair. “You’ve got a gray hair. Dad will take it out.” I slipped the hair into the small notebook I always carried. Watching Zack walk into the school, I went to the paternity testing center. “I need an expedited test. How soon can I get the results?” "Normally, it takes five working days. If you rush it, it will be before 4PM today. The fee is triple." “Expedite it.” When I handed in the sample, my hands were a little shaky. After taking my oral cells, I sat in the waiting area, staring at the clock on the wall as it ticked away. During this time, I contacted a private detective. "I want to investigate my wife, Lilith Wells, especially her whereabouts in the past few months." At 3:40 PM, my phone rang. The results were ready. I clicked open the electronic report and went straight to the end. “Based on DNA analysis, the probability of a parent-child relationship between Hugh Baker and Zack Baker is 0.0001%. According to genetic marker analysis, Hugh Baker is not the biological father of Zack Baker."
I thought I was ready, yet the words still punched the air out of me. I steadied myself against the wall and slid to the floor. Not my child. The boy I had raised for nine years carried none of my blood. Then where was my child? I drove straight to the maternity hospital where Lilith had given birth. The obstetrician who had delivered my child was now head of the department. I went straight to the point. "Dr Roger, I need my wife's full delivery file, charts, notes, everything." Her smile faltered. "It's been so long. Records are archived off-site." After a while, the staff finally produced a thin manila folder. I flipped through it but found the records so brief, listing only the admission and discharge times, the mode of delivery, and the newborn's weight. No labor progression sheet, no nursing hand-over, no pediatrician's check. "That's all?" She apologized. "I'm sorry, but paper records are only kept for ten years. Your wife's is almost expired." "What about footprints? Heel-prick blood card?" She shook her head. "Those should be in the neonatal records, but we couldn't find them." Obviously, something was off. A gaping hole where a life should have been documented. A son who looked like my wife and nothing like me. My phone buzzed. It was Lilith. "Where are you? I've already picked Zack up." I had lost track of time. Luckily, I had told the teacher beforehand. "I'm running errands outside. Be home soon." I hung up before she could ask more. After dinner, I lied to them, saying I had a migraine and escaped to the guest room. In the living room, Lilith was helping Zack with his homework. Their voices drifted faintly down the hall. "Mom, is Dad mad at me?" "He's just tired. Finish your work and sleep." When the house fell silent, I searched the entire place. Our bedroom, living room, Zack's room, and everywhere else. Still, I got no clue. Finally, I shifted my gaze to the computer. I believed the truth was there for me to find. I was closing a document when Lilith appeared. "Still up?" "Clearing old files." I turned off the monitor as I answered. She lingered for a moment, as if she wanted to say something. In the end, she only nodded. “Get some rest.” I sat in the dark, listening to her footsteps fade. That night, I didn’t open the computer again. My thoughts were a mess as I lay awake in bed. At dawn, I sent her to drop Zack off at school. She glanced at me and then complained to Zack. “See? Your dad’s just lazy. Good thing your mom spoils him.” The moment the gate clicked, I sprinted to the study. I opened the computer and typed in the possible password, our wedding anniversary. Password denied. Her birthday. Wrong. Zack’s birthday. Still wrong. I tried the date we first met, her mother’s birthday, even the company’s founding day. Still, nothing. The system prompted me to try again in fifteen minutes. I sat in the chair, staring at the screen. We had picked the computer together, but I didn't have the access now. That night, Lilith came home, peeling off her coat. "I’m leaving for a business trip to Portle tomorrow. Not sure how long I’ll be gone." I came out of the kitchen with a dish. “That's so sudden. Who are you going with?” She placed her briefcase between us like a barrier, turning back at me. “It was arranged last minute. Hugh… can you not do this?”
I stared at her in silence, wondering why a casual question had caused such a strong reaction. "You always have to ask about everything, and suspect everyone. I'm just going to work." I turned to serve the rice, my hand trembling slightly. "I'm just asking." She didn't respond, walking straight into the bedroom. Dinner was finished in silence. Zack seemed to sense something and, for once, didn’t pick at his food. After her shower, Lilith picked up her coat from the sofa to hang it up. A receipt fell from her pocket, landing at my feet. After she left, I picked it up and took a look. It was a receipt for an expensive perfume, purchased the previous afternoon. I had never heard of the perfume's name, but I knew it wasn't for me. In ten years of marriage, Lilith had never given me a gift. I used to make excuses for her, saying she wasn't romantic and was too busy with work. Now it seemed she wasn't incapable of romance; she just wasn't romantic with me. I jotted down the information on the receipt. The next morning, as soon as Lilith left for the airport, I called the counter. "I'd like to check this invoice, yes, from yesterday afternoon." "Just a moment. Got it. The purchaser is Mr. Stan Herbert." Stan Herbert. The name rang a bell. Lilith's secretary, a divorced man in his thirties, had been hired half a year ago. On my way to the airport, I wasn't sure what I wanted to confirm. Maybe the perfume was for a client, or maybe I was just overthinking things. I waited outside the international departure hall for half an hour before I saw Lilith and him. Stan, in a beige trench coat and dragging a small suitcase, walked over with Lilith. Lilith's face wore a relaxed smile I hadn't seen in a long time. Then, in front of the security checkpoint, Stan stopped and reached out to adjust Lilith's collar as if it were a habit. She didn't flinch. He leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Lilith laughed, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. Her hand lingered on his waist for a little while before they parted, as if it were second nature. The last shred of self-deception I clung to vanished in an instant. It turned out there was a reason for those late nights at work and the impatient looks she gave me. As I watched their intimate figures, suspicion began to gnaw at me. Could Zack have anything to do with this man? On my way back, I called the private detective I had hired a few days earlier. "Help me look into a man. Name's Stan Herbert. I want to know everything about him, especially whether he has a child." The detective moved fast. By the next afternoon, I received the report. Stan Herbert. Thirty-two. Divorced five years ago. Has a ten-year-old son. William Herbert. Studies at an elementary school in the west district. That date suddenly caught my eye. His son was born only one week after Zack. For the first time in ten years, I felt the blood rush to my head. I sat on the sofa, gripping the report. Then a thought struck me. I rushed into the study. My finger hovered over the keyboard before slowly typing in Stan's birthday. The desktop unlocked. Only one folder sat there—“Work Backup.” I clicked on it, and inside were subfolders neatly organized by year, starting eleven years ago. The earliest folder contained scanned old photos. Lilith and Stan, in school uniforms, stood under a locust tree. Nineteen-year-old Lilith was smiling, her hand resting on his shoulder. Stan, with short hair, looked up at her. The next photo was from college, in the library. The one after that was their graduation photo, both in academic gowns, holding hands. That same year, Lilith told me the company was in trouble. We canceled our anniversary trip. I closed the folder, feeling a bit nauseous. A decade of deception. Looking at the wallpaper of our wedding photo on the screen, I felt a wave of disgust. At three in the afternoon, I drove to the west of the city. The primary school was even older than the detective had described. The school bell rang, and children poured out of the gate. I sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel. He walked out alone, with no one to pick him up. He looked around, then slowly made his way down the sidewalk. I held my breath. That child, William. No, he was my child. The way he walked was a bit like mine, with a slight pigeon-toed gait. When he raised his hand to adjust his hair, I saw a birthmark on his wrist, in the same spot as mine. I saw dust on his eyelashes, his lips a bit dry, and the edges of his shoes coming undone. His eyes were hollow, not like those of a ten-year-old. I covered my mouth to keep from making a sound. He walked away, disappearing around the corner. I broke down and cried, my face buried in the steering wheel. For that child walking home alone, for the ten years of misplaced life, and for living like a fool in a play arranged by others. Then I wiped my tears and started the car. In the law firm, I placed the USB drive in front of Mr. Stuart. It contained backups of all the photos, the paternity test report, scanned medical records, the perfume receipt, and information on Stan and William. “I want a divorce,” I said. “I want her out with nothing. I want custody of the child. And I want her to pay for what she’s done.” As I walked out of the law firm, I remembered what Lilith had said when she proposed ten years ago. "Hugh, I'll give you a lifetime free of worries." Turns out, her “lifetime” was only ten years. No, maybe even less. I took out my phone and called the company’s second-largest shareholder, my father’s old colleague. “Mr. Wince, about next week’s board meeting… there are a few things I’d like to discuss in advance.” Lilith must have forgotten. This company carries the Baker name.
She became the general manager because I had persuaded my father to give her a chance. I could elevate her, and I could also make her fall hard. Two weeks after Lilith left, I liquidated everything under my name that could be turned into cash. These days, I spent every afternoon near the primary school in the west of the city. One rainy day, he didn't have an umbrella. After he waited under the eaves of the school's convenience store for half an hour, he ran home in the rain. I sat in my car, the rain blurring the windows. On Friday afternoon, I arrived near the school early. When I saw William come out, I got out of the car and pretended to be a passerby. The folder in my hand "accidentally" dropped in front of him. He paused, then bent down to pick it up for me. "Thank you, little one. Is your mom not here yet?" He shook his head. "Mom's working overtime today." "So how will you get home?" "By bus," he replied. I pulled out an unopened bottle of mineral water from my bag and handed it to him. "Have some water." He hesitated for a moment, then took it and whispered. "Thank you." I noticed he had a habit of pursing his lips when he spoke, just like me. His eyes were similar too, hidden double eyelids, with slightly downturned corners. "Does your mom often work overtime?" He nodded, then shook his head. "Yeah, sometimes." "What about your dad?" He didn't speak, just looked down at his shoes. The edges of his sneakers were fraying, and the shoelace on his left foot was broken. I didn't ask further and took out two hundred dollars from my wallet, pressing it into his hand. "Poor kids. Do buy yourself a new pair of shoes." He took a step back. "No Sir, I can't accept it." "Consider it a thank-you for helping me with the folder." I told him, slipping the money into the side pocket of his school bag before walking away. After a few steps, I looked back. He looked a bit bewildered. That night, I stood at the door of Zack's room. He was playing with the new Lego set Lilith had bought him, a limited-edition spaceship model that was quite expensive. "Dad? What's wrong?" I went in and stroked his hair. "Did you finish your homework?" "I finished it early." He showed me the model in his hands. "Mom said if I get into the top ten in the midterm exam, she'll take me to Disneyland." I smiled. "That's great." The moment I turned around, my smile disappeared. The different attitudes Lilith had towards the two boys felt like a thorn in my heart. My own son, wearing shoes with fraying edges, took the bus alone, while this child enjoyed everything. After a two-week business trip, Lilith finally came home. She put down her suitcase and asked directly. "Where's Zack? Why is it so quiet?" "I enrolled him in a tutoring class. Two hours in the evening." "Why? He's only in the fourth grade." I didn't answer, but smelled the perfume on her. She came over to hug me, but I stepped aside. "Who did you have dinner with?" Her expression froze, and she became impatient. "Hugh, you're being suspicious again. Can't you stop this?" Suddenly, I found it laughable. Only now did I realize how poor her acting was. I took out an envelope from the drawer of the coffee table, slowly pulled out the photos, and laid them on the table. Lilith's face turned gloomy. She picked up one of the photos and threw it back on the table. "Did you follow me?" "Does it matter?" I smiled. "What matters is, what would happen if these photos appeared at the board meeting, or were sent to your clients?" She collapsed onto the sofa opposite me, covering her face with her hands. "What do you want?" I stared at her, my voice flat. "First, fire Stan and ensure you never see him again. Second, tell me what happened at the hospital ten years ago." She stood up, furious. "You're crazy. Just because of a few photos?" My voice was cold. "Lilith, don't forget that the company bears my family name. You have what you have today because of me. And I can take it back." I almost softened, but I thought of William's shoes with fraying edges, and of him waiting alone for the rain to stop. "For the sake of ten years of marriage and our child, as long as you do as I say, we can continue this life. After all, we still have Zack." I said, turning and going to the bedroom to get a document, handing it to her. A cancer diagnosis report.
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