Chapter 100

The mid-morning light filtered through my curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across my cluttered room. My mind was a tempest, whirling with thoughts of Matt's unexpected confession the day before. I couldn't shake the weight of it, like a puzzle piece that refused to fit.

I decided to clear her mind by tackling the mess that had accumulated over the past week. Clothes strewn across the floor, books piled haphazardly, and a layer of dust on every surface made my room a reflection of my inner turmoil. I couldn’t stand it.

As I sorted through my belongings, I came across a small, forgotten box tucked away in the back of my closet. I pulled it out, a sense of déjà vu washing over me. Inside, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, was a vial of crimson liquid.

The sight sent a shiver down my spine. How could I have forgotten about this? How could I have forgotten that I was kidnapped by someone who claimed to be my dead father? That he had given me a vial of his own blood?

I chewed on my bottom lip. Would it really be a bad thing to go get this tested? Best case scenario is that the man was completely delusional and wasn’t actually her father. Worst case…I didn’t really want to think about the worst case scenario.

Because if he was telling the truth about being my dad, then I would have to go find him. And we would have to have a really long talk.

Luckily, Jack was in an exam all day long. It was the perfect time to go to the hospital, but I didn’t have a car and I couldn’t rope Fiona into this. She still didn’t know anything about it and I definitely wasn’t going to drag her into the crazy. That only left one person.

I picked up my phone and dialed his number.

"Hey," Matt's voice crackled through the line.

"Hey," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with something."

A pause followed, filled with unspoken tension. Matt could probably tell that I didnt’ need his help for a school project. "Of course, Celeste. What do you need?"

"I... I found the vial, Matt," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I think we need to take it to the hospital. I don't know what else to do."

“What vial? What are you talking about?” Matt asked and I realized he had no idea. I hadn’t told anyone about the blood or what the man had said to me. I must have been the one who sounded crazy.

“It’s a long story. But will you take me to the hospital? I’ll explain on the way.”

Silence hung heavy between us for a moment. Then, Matt's voice, steady and reassuring, broke through. "I'll be right there. Just give me a few minutes."

As I hung up, a mixture of relief and anxiety washed over me. I returned the vial to its box, carefully securing it, before pacing around my room. Realistically I knew that I wouldn’t be getting the results today, but I couldn’t help but feel nervous all the same.

When Matt arrived, he didn’t demand any explanations before I got in his car. He waited until I was ready and when I finished telling the story, he sat there quietly. Without saying anything, he reached over and grabbed my hand. This time I let him. I needed his strength.

The hospital waiting room was sterile and cold, a stark contrast to the emotions swirling within me. Matt led me to the receptionist and told her we needed a paternity test. She looked me up and down pointedly and I blushed.

“It’s not that kind of paternity test,” I said quietly and dropped Matt’s hand. “This man came to me and claimed he was my dead father. He gave me some of his blood as proof. I was just wondering if we could test it against mine so I could see if he was telling the truth.”

The receptionist’s eyebrows rose so high I was afraid they would get lost in her hairline. “That must have been quite a shock. Here. Give it to me. I’ll keep it safe until we can take your blood as well. Just have a seat, fill this out and we’ll call you when we’re ready. What’s your name?”

After I told her, Matt and I shuffled over to the waiting area and I tried to fill out the form, but my hand was shaking so bad that Matt finally took the pen and clipboard away from me. He softly asked me all the questions and when it was finished, we just sat there in silence.

It seemed like forever before they finally called my name. Matt and I both stood up, but the receptionist shook her head. I guess I was going in by myself.

A nurse led me into a back room where several chairs were in a line. There was only one other patient in there getting their blood drawn. I had to look away as her nurse stuck the needle in. Did I mention I was afraid of needles?

I sat down and put my arm on the little pillow. The nurse gave me a stress ball before tying the tourniquet around my upper arm. As she slapped my skin to make my veins come out, she told me to squeeze the ball and keep squeezing.

I did as I was asked and before too long she was prepping the needle. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see any part of it. I wished Matt was here. I wished I wasn’t having to do this by myself.

“Scared of needles?” the nurse asked in a kind voice and I squeaked out a yes. She chuckled. “I promise I’m the best at this hospital. It won’t even hurt.”

I just nodded. It wasn’t like I could tell her that I didn’t believe her. Needles always hurt. Always.

I jumped when the needle went in, sucking in a deep breath as she wiggled it around, trying to find purchase in the vein.

The nurse tsked and pulled the needle out. “I”m sorry to tell you this, hon, but you vein blew. I think we’re going to have to try a butterfly needle.”

Great. I was going to get stabbed two times. Of course my veins were problematic. Why wouldn’t they be?

“What’s a butterfly needle?” I asked, not really out of curiosity. It was more so I didn’t run out of the room screaming.

“It’s a shorter needle. We use it when a patient's veins are too delicate for the regular needles. From now on, when you have to get your blood drawn, you should ask for a butterfly needle. That way we don’t have to stick you so many times,” the nurse explained patiently as she prepped the new needle.

“Oh,” I said lamely. I wish I had known about that sooner. It would have saved me from a lot of trouble when I was a kid.

I closed my eyes again as she came near. I waited for the stab of the needle but it never came. I slowly opened my eyes only to see my blood draining into a vial. My head swam so I closed my eyes tightly again. At least the needle hadn’t hurt.

“Alright, hon. You’re all done. You can expect your results in two to five business days. The receptionist will call you when they’re ready. Have a good day,” the nurse said and I left the room in a daze. At least the hard part was over. Now I just needed to wait. Which seemed infinitely worse.