The DNA Report

Nobody moved.

The envelope slipped from Damilola’s hands onto the tiled floor.

Fiyin was the first to pick it up.

She read the report again.

Then a third time.

Finally, she looked at Damilola.

“This has to be fake.”

Mama Bose grabbed the paper with trembling hands.

The moment she saw the name, she almost collapsed into the chair.

“No… no… this is impossible.”

Damilola slowly turned toward Chief Adebisi.

The old man had gone completely pale.

He stared at the report as though he had never seen it before.

“Tell me it’s a lie.”

Chief Adebisi swallowed hard.

“It is.”

“You didn’t even read it.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Then explain why your name is there.”

“I can’t.”

Damilola’s voice rose.

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I won’t explain something that never happened.”

The room became painfully quiet.

Mama Bose suddenly stood.

“Enough!”

Everyone looked at her.

“I have kept quiet for too many years.”

She faced Chief Adebisi.

“Look at me.”

The old man slowly raised his eyes.

“Have you ever touched me in your life?”

His answer came immediately.

“Never.”

“Have we ever been alone in any compromising situation?”

“Never.”

“Have I ever given you any reason to believe Damilola could be your son?”

Chief Adebisi’s eyes filled with tears.

“Never.”

Mama Bose turned to Damilola.

“I swear before God, before your father’s memory, and before the child I carried in my womb, I never betrayed my husband.”

Damilola wanted to believe her.

Every instinct told him she was telling the truth.

But the report in his hand was saying something completely different.

His mind refused to settle.

Fiyin gently collected the paper again.

She noticed something everyone else had missed.

“Dami…”

“What?”

She pointed to the bottom of the report.

“There isn’t any laboratory stamp.”

Chief Adebisi leaned forward.

“Let me see.”

He adjusted his glasses.

Then frowned.

“This isn’t right.”

“There should be an authentication seal.”

“There should also be the testing laboratory’s address.”

There was neither.

Damilola looked again.

He had been so shocked by the name that he never checked the details.

Fiyin continued reading.

“The report doesn’t even mention who submitted the DNA samples.”

Chief Adebisi nodded.

“A proper paternity report always records the chain of custody.”

Mama Bose looked confused.

“What does that mean?”

“It means every sample must be documented from collection to testing.”

He tapped the paper.

“This report explains none of that.”

For the first time since opening the envelope, hope returned to Damilola’s face.

“So someone could have manufactured this?”

“Yes.”

“Very easily.”

Just then, Damilola remembered something.

“The courier.”

Everyone looked at him.

“What about him?” Fiyin asked.

“He never asked me to sign for the package.”

Chief Adebisi frowned.

“A registered medical report always requires a signature.”

“And he left immediately.”

Damilola rushed outside.

The street was empty.

No courier.

No delivery bike.

No van.

Nothing.

It was as if the man had disappeared into thin air.

He returned inside with a troubled expression.

“He wasn’t a courier.”

Fiyin folded the report.

“Someone wanted us to believe this.”

“But why?”

Nobody answered.

That evening, Damilola received a call from an unknown number.

He hesitated before answering.

“Hello?”

A distorted voice spoke quietly.

“Stop looking into your father’s past.”

“Who is this?”

“You’ve already opened doors that should have remained closed.”

“What do you want?”

“If you continue digging…”

“…the next funeral in your family won’t be from old age.”

The line went dead.

Damilola stared at the phone.

His hands were shaking again.

This was no longer just about old letters or mistaken medical records.

Someone alive, in the present day, was watching them.

Someone was willing to forge DNA reports.

Someone knew every step they were taking.

Someone wanted the truth buried at any cost.

Damilola slowly looked around the room at Fiyin, Mama Bose, and Chief Adebisi.

Then he spoke with a calmness that surprised even himself.

“For years, this family has been controlled by fear.”

He folded the fake DNA report in half.

“That ends today.”

Outside the house, across the street, a black SUV was parked beneath a mango tree.

A man lowered his binoculars.

He picked up his phone.

“They’re not stopping.”

A cold voice answered from the other end.

“Then move to phase two.”

The call ended.

The SUV drove away before anyone inside the house noticed it.

To be continued…

Engagement Question: If someone is threatening Damilola’s family after nearly three decades, what kind of secret could still be worth protecting?