25
Brandy
Edmonds, Washington – 2018
Halloween morning foundme in the dressing room at Nordstrom’s when Lia texted to say she’d received her DNA results. Immediately, my knees buckled. My heart pounding, I collapsed onto the bench and stared at myself in the mirror.
This was what I’d been waiting for. Once I read the report, I’d know the truth, regardless if it was what I hoped for or not.
Abandoning my promise to Lia about reading our results together, I pulled up my email on my phone and clicked on the report. At first, I couldn’t figure out how to decipher all the information. After all, I didn’t care about my health predispositions or food preferences. I just wanted to know if Lia and I shared the same father.
“How’s everything fitting?” called a saleslady from the other side of the door.
“Fine,” I said. “Just fine.”
Desperate, I continued scanning the report. Then I found the page that listed my relatives who’d also taken the test.
Under half siblings—
“Would you like me to bring you any additional sizes or colors?” the cheerful salesclerk asked.
“No. No thank you. I...”
My stomach did a free fall as I stared at the initials of my half sibling.
L.H.
Lia Hermosa.
The awful truth pounded against my skull. Lia and I were half sisters. My father not only killed my mother, but he raped Aunt Ruthie and fathered Lia.
I’d been so confident he was innocent. I’d seen the inconsistencies in the transcript. I’d believed the books that referenced studies showing the fault in eyewitness testimony, showing how it could be manipulated and used to support a preconceived narrative.
But I’d been wrong. My father was guilty.
My body trembling, I tugged off the dress and managed to put on my own clothes. In a daze, I stumbled to the parking lot and climbed into my car.
Guilty. My father was guilty.
Heartbroken, I drove across town to Lia’s apartment. By the time she answered her door, my shock had turned to anger.
“He did it.” I held up my phone so Lia could see the “L.H.” on my results. “We’re sisters. Biological half sisters.”
“Oh, Brandy. I’m so sorry.”
I swiped at my eyes, livid beyond belief. “I thought for sure there’d been a mistake. I thought we’d be the heroes by proving his innocence and rescuing him from prison. But he’s guilty. Guilty.”
Lia ushered me inside. To her credit, she didn’t berate me about opening the report without her. Nor did she mention that this was good news for her mom. Instead, she asked if I’d told Troy yet.
“Not yet. He warned me. He said that all criminals claim to be innocent. He said just because a person looks kind and caring on a home movie doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of murder.”
She nodded, probably familiar with this concept from listening to all her murder podcasts.
“Do you want a drink?” Lia waddled into the kitchen. “I’ve got decaf coffee, tea, water...”
Had I not been so devastated, I might’ve laughed. “Are you seriously offering me a beverage right now?”
“Maybe.”