Chapter 5 - Bloodlines and Secrets
Z
The fluorescent lights of the pediatric emergency room buzzed with a low, agonizing hum that tore through Trevor’s shattered nerves. It was 2:15 AM, three days after Victoria’s dramatic exit and Frank’s devastating revelation.
In Trevor’s arms, wrapped in a pink fleece blanket, was small, fragile Chloe. Her skin had taken on a terrifying, distinct yellowish hue over the past twelve hours, and she had refused to take a bottle since five o'clock that evening. Katie sat in a wheelchair beside him, pushed by her mother, her face drawn, terrified, and devoid of color.
A young pediatrician with tired eyes pushed back the privacy curtain and walked into the small exam bay, holding a clip-board with a stack of blood test results.
"Mr. and Mrs. Vance?" the doctor asked, looking between them.
"How is she?" Katie asked instantly, her voice trembling. "Is it jaundice? We were told a little yellowing was normal, but she's so lethargic—"
"It is severe neonatal jaundice," the doctor explained calmly, though his expression was serious. "Her bilirubin levels are dangerously high—well above the threshold where simple home phototherapy would be effective. We need to admit her to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit immediately for high-intensity blue-light therapy and intravenous hydration."
Katie let out a stifled sob, pulling her hands up to cover her face. Trevor felt his heart freeze in his chest. He tightened his grip on the tiny bundle in his arms, panic surging through his veins like battery acid.
"Is she going to be okay?" Trevor begged, his voice high and frantic. "Please, doctor, is she going to be alright?"
"We caught it in time," the doctor reassured them. "But we need to act quickly. Also, her blood work revealed something unusual that we need to address. Her blood type is O-negative, and she’s showing signs of a rare enzyme deficiency that can accelerate red blood cell breakdown. It’s almost always genetic."
The doctor looked down at his chart. "Katie, your chart says your blood type is A-positive. Trevor, what is your blood type?"
Trevor blinked, caught off guard. "I... I think I'm A-positive too. My mom always told me I had the same blood type as her."
"Are you sure?" the doctor pressed politely. "Because for Chloe to have this specific enzyme deficiency alongside O-negative blood, both biological parents must carry the specific recessive trait, or the father must be O-negative himself."
Trevor froze. A strange, suffocating sensation filled his chest.
At that exact moment, the curtains swept open. Victoria rushed into the room, her coat unbuttoned, looking panicked. She had driven straight to the hospital after Katie’s mother had sent a brief text informing her of Chloe’s admission.
"Oh my God!" Victoria gasped, rushing to Katie’s wheelchair. "Is the baby okay? What’s happening?"
"Mom," Trevor said, his voice strangely flat, his eyes fixed entirely on his mother's face. "What is my blood type?"
Victoria paused, taken aback by the sudden, sharp question. "What? What does that have to do with anything right now? The baby is sick!"
"What is my blood type, Mom?" Trevor stepped toward her, holding Chloe tightly against his chest. "You told me my whole life I was A-positive, just like you."
Victoria swallowed hard, her eyes darting nervously toward the doctor and then back to Trevor. "I... I don't remember exactly, Trevor. It’s been thirty years—"
"You remember everything," Trevor spat out, a terrifying realization dawning in his mind. "You remember every detail of my childhood down to the minute. What is my blood type?"
"Mr. Vance, we need to take the baby to the NICU now," the doctor interrupted gently, reaching out his hands.
Katie took Chloe from Trevor’s arms and handed her to the nurse, tears streaming down her face. "Go with her, Mom," Katie whispered to her own mother, who nodded and followed the nurses down the hallway toward the double doors.
Once the medical staff cleared out, the tiny exam room felt violently small.
"Trevor, please, this isn't the time—" Victoria began, her voice shaking.
"Is Frank my biological father?" Trevor asked. The question hung in the air like a unexploded bomb.
Katie stared at Trevor, shock paralyzing her feature. "Trevor... what are you asking?"
Victoria turned pale. She stepped back toward the curtain, looking around as if searching for an exit. "Of course he is your father! How could you ask me something so disgusting?"
"Because Frank showed me his medical discharge papers from the Navy yesterday," Trevor said, his voice dripping with venomous clarity. "He brought them to the motel to show me his service record. Frank is AB-positive, Mom. An AB-positive father cannot have an O-negative child. It’s genetically impossible."
Victoria froze completely. The silence in the room was absolute, punctuated only by the distant, rhythmic beeping of cardiac monitors down the hall.
Katie covered her mouth in absolute horror. "Victoria... oh my God."
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"Who is my father?" Trevor whispered, taking a step toward the woman who had built his entire world on a mountain of absolute fabrications. "Who am I, Victoria?"
Victoria’s composure shattered completely. She dropped into the vinyl guest chair, burying her face in her manicured hands, letting out a jagged, horrifying weep that sounded less like grief and more like the death rattle of a terrible, long-held secret.
