Page 10 of Oblivion

Utterly confused, I strode back to the roadside to find it as empty as a minute ago. Not a soul in sight. No walkers, cars, neighbors… nothing. Shaking my head in disbelief, my eyes drew back to the sheet of paper shaking within my grasp.

Sample from Cynthia Prescott—100% match.

Sample from Paul Prescott—62% match.

Conclusion: While Cynthia Prescott is the conclusive maternal match for daughter Penelope Prescott, inconsistencies suggest Paul Prescott is not the conclusive paternal match. The DNA sample provided for ______ is a conclusive paternal match.

DNA sample provided by ______.

Theprovided forandprovided bynames had been blocked out before photocopying, and the date was only three months ago.

Illness crept into my stomach as I re-read each word. Dread wedged in my throat, forcing me to fight for each breath.

Heading inside with the remainder of my shopping forgotten, the dumbstruck haze wouldn’t lift.

Surely, there was a rational answer. Therehadto be some kind of logical explanation for the document.

“Mom? Dad? Can you guys come in here?” I shouted, my voice shrill and strained.

Mom appeared first, expression brimming with concern, and Dad promptly followed.

“Bunny, is everything okay? You didn’t crash the car, did you?”

Mom scoffed at him, then sent me a wide-eyed look when I remained mute. I simply couldn’t speak. Instead, I held out the document while eyeing Mom.

“What’s this?” Dad reached for the trembling paper, and Mom blanched as she read over his shoulder.

That’s when I saw it: the guilt, as plain as day, written all over her face. Her eyes held fear when they re-met mine, and the ghost of a head shake told me all I needed to know.

It was the truth.

“What the fuck is this?” Dad roared, dividing glances between me and Mom. “Penelope, where did you get this?”

“It was under my car window wiper just now,” I stammered.

“Did you see anyone around?”

I shook my head. “No. There was no one. I checked twice. What’s going on? Mom?”

She swallowed thickly as her eyes began to shimmer with tears.

“Cynthia?” Dad snapped, his angered voice echoing around us and sending ripples of fear down my spine.

“I… It’s obviously a fake document. You’re her father, Paul.”

Dad held up the paper and flapped it in her face. “This document saysotherwise!You had anaffair?”

Much to my distress, Mom scoffed. “You’re one to talk.”

“Mind your tongue.” He then cut his furious gaze to me. “Penelope, are yousureyou didn’t see who left this?”

“Positive.But I don’t care about that right now. You had an affair? Youbothdid?”

My fingers gripped the stone countertop as my world started to crack and crumble around me. I couldn’t breathe and couldn’t bear to look at either of them. Each passing second brought more destruction to our family.

“I can explain,” Mom started before Dad cut her off.

“Who was it!Was it someone from the office?”

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