My husband refused to do a DNA test for our daughter’s school project – so I did it behind his back, and the results prompted me to call the police.

When you spend years undergoing IVF…

“Promise me you won’t do anything with this kit,” he told me.

“Greg, what are you talking about?”

“We don’t need to know everything, Sue.”

**

He began to linger in the hallway after dinner, watching Tiffany set the table as if she were a rare painting he would never see again.

One evening, I asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Greg, what are you talking about?”

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long week, Sue.”

Two mornings later, I saw her cup on the counter, and my mind started spinning.

Tiffany came in, rubbing her eyes. “Mom, can we finish my line drawing after school?”

“Of course,” I replied. “We’ll do it right after your snack.”

“It’s been a long week, Sue.”

When she left, I stood by the sink, Greg’s mug in one hand and a cotton swab in the other. I didn’t want to be the kind of woman who did that.

But I also didn’t want to be the kind of mother who looked away.

“I’m not snooping,” I said aloud. “I’m doing my duty as a mother.”

I scraped the edge. I sealed the tube with one of the two cotton swabs that Greg had forgotten when he lost interest in the child. I wrote his initials.

Then I sent them by mail.

**

“I don’t snoop.”

The results arrived the following Tuesday.

Greg was in the shower. I opened the email as if it were a bomb about to explode.