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The 100th Test Snitched

Driven by an inexplicable suspicion, a mother sacrifices her career and stability to subject her daughter, Lily, to ninety-nine DNA tests. Despite every report confirming their biological bond, she insists on a hundredth. Her husband Wesley, pushed to his limit, presents divorce papers to protect their traumatized child. While her mother-in-law blames postpartum depression, the protagonist demands one final screening. When the results of The 100th Test Snitched finally arrive, the silence in the room reveals a shattering reality no one expected.
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Chapter 3

Sasha blinked. "Another DNA test? That makes a hundred, right?"

Then her face shifted, concern creeping in. "Are you under too much stress? Postpartum depression? You should see a psychiatrist."

She glanced at me, saw how tight I was, and sighed. "If you really want to do it here, fine. I'm here for an exchange program anyway. I'll watch them run it. That should ease your mind."

I looked down, thought for a second, then nodded.

Reporters flooded into the hospital. Some were already livestreaming.

She grabbed a collection tube and rolled up Lily's sleeve. The bruises made her eyes soften.

"Maya, let's use hair instead. Tech's better now. It'll still be accurate."

I watched the livestream on my phone. The comments were blowing up with insults.

"This is child abuse!"

"I know her! The crazy lady in our neighborhood who keeps doing DNA tests!"

"Call the cops! That kid isn't safe with her!"

I didn't react. "Draw blood."

Wesley slapped me across the face. "You're hopeless!"

My cheek swelled on the spot. I tasted blood at the corner of my mouth.

I covered my face, eyes cold.

He froze for a second, panic flashing in his eyes.

Then he glanced at the phone screen. The panic faded—replaced by something like satisfaction.

The livestream lit up with cheers.

"Well done!"

"She had it coming!"

I snatched the syringe from Sasha and drew Lily's blood myself.

Then I drew my own and handed both tubes to Sasha.

She looked at me, helpless—like I was too far gone.

I sat outside the lab, silent, waiting.

My mom rushed in and grabbed my hand. "If Wesley hadn't called, I wouldn't even know you've been doing this! What's wrong with you? If something's bothering you, tell us. Let's go home. No more tests."

Her eyes flicked to the cameras around us.

My vision blurred. I could ignore everyone else—just not her.

If this DNA test came back the same, with all those cameras—

I'd be done. Hated. I might drag her down with me.

But I didn't back off. I pulled my hand free. "Mom, you'll understand when the results come out."

"You! How can you be this stubborn?" She clutched her chest, her vision going dark—then collapsed.

"Mom! Mom!" I lunged to catch her, but my dad shoved me aside.

"You ungrateful girl! You put your mother in the hospital! We don't have a daughter like you!"

They rushed her into the ER.

At the doors, I turned and walked toward the lab.

Wesley glared at me. "Maya, I didn't know you could be this cold. Your mom's in the ER because of you, and you're still thinking about a DNA test? You're heartless."

My steps dragged. My chest felt packed tight. I could barely breathe.

I kept walking.