— I know you think this is a gift, but how could you? — Elena held the white envelope between two fingers, as if it might burn her hand. — On our wedding anniversary, Nikolai! Our fifteenth anniversary!
Nikolai stood by the window, looking out at the yard flooded with July sun. His broad shoulders tensed.
— You have to understand me, Lena. I had the right to know.
Around them were the traces of a celebratory dinner — unfinished champagne, the remains of a cake with fifteen candles, a bouquet of lilies in a tall vase. Their country house, which they had bought five years earlier, suddenly felt alien and cold despite the heat outside.
— Know what? That Andrei isn’t your son? — Elena tossed the envelope onto the table. — This is some monstrous mistake. I never cheated on you, do you hear? Never!
Nikolai turned to her, anger and pain warring in his eyes.
— Then explain these results to me. Explain why they say the probability of my paternity is less than one percent!
The front door slammed. In the doorway stood Vera, their fourteen-year-old daughter. Tall like her father, with his deep-set gray eyes.
— What’s going on here? — she glanced from her father to her mother. — Are you two fighting? On your anniversary?
Elena quickly snatched the envelope from the table.
— Nothing, Vera. We’re just discussing… work things.
— On a day off? — Vera narrowed her eyes, showing the father’s keen perceptiveness she’d inherited. — Fine, if you don’t want to talk, don’t. I’m going to Katya’s — we’re heading to the movies.
When their daughter left, Elena sank into a chair.
— Where’s Andrei?
— At the Pavlovs’. They picked him up from soccer; he’s staying the night there, — Nikolai took the bottle and topped off his champagne. — Funny, isn’t it? We’re celebrating fifteen years of marriage, and I’ve just learned I’ve spent ten of them raising someone else’s child.
— He isn’t someone else’s! — Elena sprang up. — How can you say that? You’re his father — you held him as a newborn, you taught him to ride a bike, you…
— I thought he was mine! — Nikolai set his glass down hard, champagne splashing onto the tablecloth. — Now I don’t know what to think. Who is he, Lena? Whose is he?
— Mine and yours. Our son. There’s been some mistake with this test.
— I checked three times, Lena. Three! I didn’t want to believe the first result.
Elena felt the ground slide out from under her.
— When did you start doubting? Why did you do this test at all?
Nikolai was silent for a moment, then sighed heavily.
— Viktor.
— Viktor? Your former colleague? What does he have to do with this?
— Two weeks ago we bumped into each other at a home-improvement store. We talked. He asked about you, about the kids. And then… then he said something that made me start thinking.
Elena felt her hands go cold.
— What exactly?
— He hinted that you two had an affair. That you… that you… — Nikolai couldn’t finish the sentence.
— What?! — Elena shot to her feet. — Me and Viktor? Are you out of your mind? I couldn’t stand him! He always tried to set you up at work — you said so yourself!
— I know, — Nikolai ran a hand through his hair. — But then I started remembering… Andrei looks nothing like me. Or anyone in my family. And his age roughly lines up with the period when I was working that job in Kazan and was away for a week at a time…
— I can’t believe you don’t trust me, — Elena sank back into the chair. — Fifteen years of marriage, and you believe Viktor over me.
— I wanted to believe you! That’s why I did the test — to prove to myself that Viktor was lying. But the results… — Nikolai nodded at the envelope. — The results say otherwise.
A heavy silence settled over the room.
— What now? — Elena asked at last.
— I don’t know, — Nikolai picked up his bag. — I need time to think. I’ll stay with Igor for a couple of days.
Elena wanted to object, but the words stuck in her throat. She watched in silence as her husband walked out of the house they had built together. When the door closed, she lowered her head onto her arms and burst into tears.
— I don’t get it, — Igor, Nikolai’s younger brother, handed him a cup of coffee. — Why did you do that test in the first place?
They sat in the kitchen of Igor’s apartment — small, but cozy. Nikolai hadn’t slept all night, and the dark circles under his eyes showed it.
— You didn’t see how Viktor looked at me when he said it. With such… certainty. And then, you know yourself Andrei doesn’t look like me.
— He looks like Elena, — Igor shrugged. — So what? My Dima looks more like Yulia than me, too.
— But the results…
— Are you sure they’re right? Who ran the analysis?
Nikolai pulled a crumpled business card from his pocket.
— “GenLab.” A private lab, but with good reviews. I checked.
Igor took the card and turned it over in his hands.
— And what are you going to do now?
— I don’t know, — Nikolai rubbed his face with his palms. — It feels like my world collapsed.
— Did you talk to Elena? What does she say?
— That she never cheated on me. That it’s a mistake.
— And do you believe her?
Nikolai raised his eyes to his brother.
— I believed her for fifteen years. And now… I don’t know.
Elena sat in the office of the director of the “MedTest” laboratory. She had barely slept, but she looked composed and determined.
— I need the results as quickly as possible, — she said, handing over vials with samples. — I’m willing to pay extra to rush it.
The director, a plump woman in glasses, nodded.
— We can do it in three days. But I must warn you, a DNA paternity test is a serious procedure. If you’re doubting the results of another lab…
— I’m more than sure there was a mistake there, — Elena said firmly. — My husband is my son’s father. I want to prove it.
Leaving the lab, Elena called her friend Marina.
— I need your help. You worked at the city hospital ten years ago, right? Do you remember a nurse named Irina from the maternity ward?
Vera found her mother at the computer. Elena was searching something quickly online and jotting notes in a notebook.
— Mom, what’s going on? Where’s Dad? He isn’t answering my messages.
Elena flinched and closed the laptop.
— Dad went to Uncle Igor’s. We have… a small disagreement.
— What kind of disagreement? — Vera crossed her arms. — What did you fight about?
Elena sighed. Vera was too smart to be put off with simple excuses.
— Your father… doubts that he’s Andrei’s biological father.
Vera froze, eyes wide.
— What? But how… why?
— He did a DNA test. The results said that genetically he isn’t Andrei’s father. But it’s a mistake, Vera. I’m sure it’s a mistake.
— You… you cheated on Dad? — Vera’s voice trembled.
— No! Never! — Elena grabbed her daughter’s hands. — I swear to you, I never cheated on your father. I love him. I’ve always loved him.
Vera jerked her hands away.
— Then where did Andrei come from? — there was a challenge in her voice. — DNA doesn’t lie, Mom.
— Tests can be wrong. Labs can make mistakes. People can manipulate results.
— What are you talking about?
Elena opened her notebook.
— I think the results were forged. Or there was a mix-up at the hospital. Or…
— You’re inventing some crazy theories instead of admitting the truth! — Vera burst out. — You lied to all of us! Poor Dad! Poor Andrei!
— Vera, please, — Elena reached out to her daughter, but she recoiled.
— Don’t touch me! I… I don’t want to talk to you!
Vera ran out of the room, slamming the door. Elena sank into a chair, feeling tears stream from her eyes again. Her whole world was falling apart before her eyes.
Marina brought Elena to a small café on the outskirts of the city.
— She’ll be here in five minutes, — Marina said, checking her phone. — I told her I wanted to meet a former colleague. I didn’t mention you.
— Thank you, — Elena nervously twisted a napkin in her hands. — Are you sure it’s the same Irina?
— Absolutely. Irina Savelieva. She worked in the maternity hospital when you delivered Andrei. Then she quit quickly and left the city. Only came back a couple of years ago.
The café door opened and a woman of about forty with a short haircut and wary eyes walked in. Seeing Elena, she froze.
— What does this mean, Marina? Why did you trick me?
— Please, Irina, — Elena stood up. — I just need to ask a few questions.
— I have nothing to say to you, — Irina turned toward the exit.
— I know you dated Nikolai before me! — Elena blurted out. — And I know you worked at the maternity hospital when my son was born.
Irina slowly turned back.
— So what?
— Was there… a mix-up with the babies? Or… — Elena couldn’t bring herself to say the word “switch.”
Irina let out a bitter little laugh.
— You think I switched your baby out of revenge? Seriously?
— I don’t know what to think! — Elena cried. — The DNA test says my husband isn’t my son’s father. I never cheated on Nikolai. How do I explain that?
Irina came over to the table and sat down.
— Listen, I won’t pretend I was thrilled when Nikolai dumped me for you. Yes, I was hurt. Yes, I worked at the maternity hospital when you gave birth. But I’m not crazy enough to switch babies!
— Then what happened? — Elena threw up her hands in despair.
Irina looked at her intently.
— And what did the test show? That Nikolai isn’t the father? Or that the child isn’t yours at all?
— Only that Nikolai isn’t the father.
— And where was that test done?
— At “GenLab.”
Irina pondered for a moment.
— You know, it’s a strange coincidence, but my niece works at GenLab. Alisa Savelieva. She handles processing the results.
Elena and Marina exchanged glances.
— And she could have… altered the results? — Marina asked carefully.
— I didn’t say that, — Irina replied quickly. — But Alisa… she’s very attached to me. And she knows the history with Nikolai.
Tamara Petrovna, Nikolai’s grandmother, was waiting for him in her small apartment. Despite being eighty, she retained a clear mind and a firm character.
— Sit down, grandson, — she pointed to a chair. — Igor told me everything. What nonsense have you gotten yourself into?
Nikolai sat down.
— Grandma, this isn’t nonsense. I have the test results…
— Tests! — the old woman snorted. — Have you looked in the mirror lately? At your grandfather?
She got up and went to an old dresser, taking out a battered photo album.
— Here, look.
She opened the album to a yellowed photograph. A boy of about ten looked out — astonishingly like Andrei.
— Who… is this? — Nikolai asked.
— Your grandfather Vladimir. My husband, God rest his soul. This photo is from 1953.
Nikolai took the photograph with trembling hands.
— But… that’s Andrei! How?
— In our family, Kolya, genes play strange tricks. They skip a generation. You take after your father, Igor takes after me. And Andryusha is the spitting image of Volodya.
— But the test…
— The test, the test! — Grandma waved a hand. — Do you know your grandfather had a rare blood type? And you have the same. And Andryusha too.
— That proves nothing, Grandma.
— And the fact you’re ready to destroy your family over a piece of paper — what does that prove? Your foolishness, that’s what!
Elena sat in the “MedTest” director’s office, staring at the second test results. They confirmed the first — Nikolai was not Andrei’s biological father.
— Is it possible for two different tests to be wrong? — she asked in a trembling voice.
The director shook her head.
— The likelihood is very small. But… there are some genetic anomalies that can affect the results. Very rare ones.
— Which ones exactly?
— For example, chimerism — when a person has cells with different genetic material. Or certain mutations that affect the standard markers used in paternity tests.
Elena recalled Tamara Petrovna’s words about a rare blood type.
— And where can we do a deeper analysis? One that would account for these anomalies?
— At the state genetic laboratory. But it’s expensive and takes a long time.
— I don’t care. I want to know the truth.
Viktor didn’t expect to see Nikolai on his doorstep.
— Kolya? What are you…
He didn’t have time to finish. Nikolai grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.
— What the hell did you tell me about Elena? Why did you lie?
— I… I didn’t lie, — Viktor tried to free himself. — Let me go!
Nikolai released him, and Viktor slid down the wall.
— Your niece works at GenLab, right? — Nikolai asked. — Alisa Savelieva.
Viktor turned pale.
— I don’t know what you’re talking about.
— Stop lying! — Nikolai pulled out his phone and showed a photo. — That’s you and Alisa at GenLab’s corporate party. A photo from their website.
Viktor covered his face with his hands.
— Why, Viktor? — Nikolai asked quietly. — Why did you do it?
— You got the promotion that should have been mine, — Viktor answered dully. — You were always the boss’s favorite. Then you started your own company and became so successful… And I’ve got nothing. No career, no family.
— So you decided to destroy mine out of envy?
— I just wanted you to feel as rotten as I do.
Elena and Nikolai sat in the waiting room of the state genetic laboratory. Between them, on the chair, sat Andrei, swinging his legs and playing on his phone. He didn’t understand why they all had to give some tests, but he was happy to skip school.
— Did you talk to Viktor? — Elena asked quietly.
Nikolai nodded.
— He confessed to everything. He wanted revenge for old grudges.
— And his niece?
— She confessed too. She falsified the results at his request.
— And the second test? At MedTest?
Nikolai shook his head.
— That’s the strange part. They insist their results are accurate. And they have no connection to Viktor.
— The Sokolov family? — a doctor with a folder in his hands came into the waiting room. — Please come to my office.
In the office, the doctor — an elderly man with an attentive gaze — spread several sheets with graphs and tables before them.
— I have unusual news for you, — he said. — From the standpoint of standard analysis, Nikolai Sokolov is indeed not the biological father of Andrei Sokolov.
Elena turned pale, and Nikolai clenched his fists.
— But, — the doctor continued, — we ran an expanded analysis and found something interesting. You, Nikolai, have a rare genetic feature — a mutation in one of the key markers used in standard paternity tests.
— What does that mean? — Nikolai asked.
— It means the standard test will show a false negative. With deeper analysis we see the genetic material matches. You are definitely Andrei’s father.
Elena covered her face with her hands, unable to hold back tears of relief.
— Is this mutation rare? — Nikolai asked, remembering his grandmother’s words.
— Very rare. It occurs in roughly one person in ten thousand. And it’s inherited. Andrei has this mutation as well.
That evening the whole family gathered for dinner. Vera, wary at first, gradually thawed as she watched her parents holding hands again and smiling at each other.
— So it was all because of some mutation? — she asked.
— And because of one man’s envy, — Nikolai nodded. — Viktor knew about my doubts regarding Andrei’s looks and decided to exploit them.
— But how did he know about the mutation? — Vera was surprised.
— He didn’t, — Elena replied. — He just asked his niece to fake the first test results. And the second test showed the same thing because of the mutation no one suspected.
Andrei, who was devouring his pizza, looked up.
— What mutation are you talking about? Am I like a mutant from X-Men?
Everyone laughed, and the tension of the last few days began to fade.
— No, son, — Nikolai ruffled his hair. — It’s just that you and I have a rare genetic quirk. It makes us… special.
— Cool! — Andrei brightened. — What superpowers do we have?
— The main superpower is being a family, — Elena smiled. — No matter what.
Later, when the kids had gone to bed, Nikolai and Elena were alone in the kitchen.
— Forgive me, — Nikolai said quietly. — I should have trusted you, not some tests.
— And I should have understood your doubts, — Elena replied. — Andrei really doesn’t look like you on the outside.
— But he’s the spitting image of my granddad, — Nikolai smiled. — Grandma was right.
Elena leaned into her husband.
— You know, this was the worst anniversary gift ever.
— I promise, next time it’ll be only flowers and jewelry.
— And no envelopes with test results?
— No envelopes, — Nikolai confirmed, kissing her.
A full moon shone through the window, bathing the kitchen in soft light. The family storm had passed, leaving behind an understanding of how important trust is — and how fragile. And perhaps that understanding was the most precious gift of their fifteenth anniversary.