The morning air was heavy as Marco, Carmen, and Luca walked into the hospital.
Marco’s shoulders were stiff with tension, his jaw locked. Luca stayed silent, his expression unreadable. Carmen held onto her own arms, trying to steady her breathing.
They had barely slept the night before. Not after what happened. Not after seeing Matteo standing over Carmen with a knife. Not after deciding to do a DNA test.
Matteo had woken up the next morning as if nothing had happened. No memory of the knife. No mention of standing in her room. He had smiled, laughed, played.
And it terrified Carmen. Because it wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal.
Michael, the doctor handling the test, nodded as they sat down in his office.
“I’ll get this done as soon as possible,” he said, taking the samples.
Marco’s voice was cold, firm. “I want the results by tomorrow.”
Michael hesitated but nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” Carmen barely heard them. Her mind was racing. What if Matteo really wasn’t theirs?
No. No, that was impossible. He had to be their son. Had to be.
Right?
Matteo Was Just… Matteo.
When they returned home, Carmen did what she always did. She tried. Tried to pretend everything was okay. Tried to play with Matteo. Tried to ignore the way her hands trembled every time she touched him.
“Mama, look!” Matteo beamed as he stacked his blocks into a tower.
Carmen forced a smile.
“That’s amazing, baby,” she said softly.
Matteo grinned. He was so normal. So happy. So Matteo. And yet—
Something felt wrong. Like she was looking at a perfect replica of her son. A copy. A mirror. But not really him.
The next day, the hospital called.
Carmen was in the garden when Marco’s phone rang.
He answered, his voice tight.
“Yeah?”
Michael’s voice was steady.
“We have the results.”
Marco’s throat went dry.
“And?”
“We’re bringing them to you now.”
Marco hung up without another word. Carmen exhaled shakily.
This was it. In an hour, they would know. Carmen took a deep breath and turned to Matteo. “Baby, go play in your room for a little bit, okay?”
Matteo looked up at her, his big brown eyes curious.
“Okay, Mama.”
He ran off happily, completely unaware of what was about to happen. Marco, Luca, and Carmen sat in the kitchen, waiting.
Minutes later, a knock echoed through the house.
Marco got up, took the envelope from the doctor, and shut the door without a word.
The silence in the kitchen was thick. Marco placed the envelope on the table. No one moved. No one breathed.
And then—
Marco ripped it open. His eyes scanned the paper. His hands tightened. His face paled. Carmen’s stomach dropped.
“What does it say?” she whispered.
Marco didn’t answer. His fingers curled into a fist around the paper. Luca snatched it from him and read it aloud.
“No biological match.”Carmen’s heart stopped.
“What?” she whispered.
Luca’s voice was cold. “Matteo is not your son.”
Carmen felt like the world had just tilted on its axis.
“That’s not possible,” she choked out, shaking her head violently. “That’s not—”
Marco slammed a fist onto the table.
“Fuck!”