“I’m sure you can understand the need for extra precaution,” Dillon smoothly replies, in that husky Irish tone I used to love so much, jerking his head in my direction.
“I can assure you both you have nothing to worry about. I am personally handling your case, instead of one of our geneticists, to ensure your confidentiality is protected.” He shoots me a reassuring smile that does little to reassure me.
If Reeve were to discover the truth via the media, he would never forgive me.
It’s just another reason why I need to talk to him sooner rather than later.
“As agreed, I will enter the samples under false names as an added safeguard,” the doctor continues, his gaze bouncing between Dillon and me.
“Thank you.” I remove the two sealed plastic bags from my purse, placing them on his desk. “The blue toothbrush is my husband’s, and the smaller red one is my son’s,” I explain, almost choking on the words. “Are you sure these will be enough to extract a DNA sample?”
“The DNA in a person’s blood, saliva, hair, or skin cells is exactly the same. Toothbrush samples are commonly used for forensic testing, and it’s no better or more or less accurate than a cheek swab or providing a blood sample, provided there is enough DNA on the sample,” he says, helping to alleviate some of my concerns.
Pulling on surgical gloves, he rounds the desk, standing in front of Dillon with a swab in his hand. Dillon opens his mouth without hesitation, and I watch with mounting trepidation as the doctor swabs the inside of his cheek. He then secures the swab in a sealed bag and writes labels that he attaches to the three samples.
“How long will it take to get the results?” Dillon asks, beating me to the punch.
“Approximately ten days to two weeks.”
That is way too long. “Can’t you expedite it? We can pay more,” I offer.
“That is as fast as we can deliver the results. This is not a routine paternity test. In order to determine paternity in cases of identical twins, we need to examine more than just the standard markers. There is no way it can be rushed.”
“And you’re sure you can conclusively determine paternity with these samples?” I ask.
He nods. “We will examine the entire genome sequence which will isolate at least a single mutation in one of the twin’s genetics that has been passed on from father to son. The test will confirm which twin fathered your son.”
Warmth spreads to my cheeks at his words. What must he think of me? Not that that’s even high on my list of worries at this point.
“We’ll await your call.” Dillon stands. “Thank you.”
The doctor shakes both our hands before showing us back out to the reception area.
“I need to speak to you,” I tell Dillon, not looking at him as we make our way outside. “We can talk in my car,” I add, not waiting for him to reply, striding across the half-empty parking lot toward my SUV.