At her husband’s funeral, Nancy encounters a mysterious older woman holding a baby. The woman makes an impossible claim: the baby is her late husband Patrick’s child. Stunned and disbelieving, Nancy questions everything she thought she knew about Patrick. Was this stranger lying, or was there a hidden part of Patrick’s life yet to be uncovered?
As she walked through the cemetery, overwhelmed by grief, Nancy could hardly process her loss. Her beloved husband, gone in a sudden accident, had left a void she couldn’t yet accept. Just as she was leaving, the woman blocked her path.
“Are you Nancy?” the stranger asked, her voice trembling as she rocked the crying baby.
Nancy was taken aback. “Yes, but… who are you?”
The woman introduced herself as Amanda, then, with shocking bluntness, claimed the baby in her arms was Patrick’s child.
“This is Patrick’s daughter,” Amanda insisted. “Her mother can’t care for her now, but you, Nancy… you’re the only one who can.”
A cold shiver ran down Nancy’s spine. The idea seemed absurd, impossible. “No… that’s a lie! Patrick was a good husband. He would never betray me like that!” She turned away, desperate to dismiss the claim, and walked toward her car. But Patrick’s friend Mike approached her just as she reached it, offering his condolences. Trying to keep her composure, Nancy exchanged brief words, then made her way to her car to escape.
Once inside, however, she gasped—Amanda’s baby was there, lying in the back seat, crying. Confused and alarmed, Nancy looked around but saw no sign of Amanda. Why was this happening? Why was this child here, and why did she feel such a pull toward her?
Instinctively, Nancy picked up the crying infant, her heart pounding as she noticed something peculiar—a small birthmark on the baby’s neck, identical to one Patrick had. She wanted to dismiss the thought, to believe her husband had been faithful, but the similarity was undeniable. Desperate for answers, Nancy decided to find out the truth once and for all. She collected a strand of Patrick’s hair from his belongings and rushed to a clinic, requesting a DNA test.
The wait was agonizing. Sitting in the clinic hallway with the baby in her arms, she tried to silence the doubts swirling in her mind. When the nurse finally returned with the results, Nancy’s heart raced as she opened the envelope. The words struck her like a blow: “Paternity rate – 99%.”
