DNA Matches.
DNA Circles.
I immediately click on the matches, frantic to finally satiate the burning desire to know the truth.
Only, the moment my gaze settles, my stomach clenches, my mouth dropping open.
“What’s wrong?” Rosie asks me.
I blink twice, thinking I’m not possibly seeing clearly. I look again, sure that I’m reading this all wrong.
Lynne Jones, mother, deceased.
A piece of information I already knew. Johnny’s late mother, who died when he was young. He barely speaks of her, but when he does, I can tell it pains him to relive the memory of her.
It’s not his mom that unsettles me, though. It’s the next line down.
“It’s…” but I can’t finish my sentence. It would make it all too real.
Luciano Bane, father.
But that’s it. No deceased. No nothing. Just his name.
Meaning, his father is very much alive.
A father he has no idea even exists, let alone is still out there.
Here I was thinking I was going to find some long-lost grandparent or uncle, but I ended up with the name of his biological father. And I’m not entirely sure if that’s good or bad. Clearly, this guy played no active role in Johnny’s life, so maybe telling Johnny he’s still out there would hurt him more, knowing he’s alive and could have reached out, but never did.
I pull up a second browser, desperate to find out more information about this mystery man whose sole part in the creation of Johnny was as a sperm donor. Almost like what my mother had been for me, a vessel to bring me into this world, only to leave me once I was born.
I type in the name, noticing the Google search bar trying to complete my request.
Luciano Bane net worth.
Luciano Bane possible murder.
Luciano Bane owner of Bane Café.
Luciano Bane crimes.
Is it possible there’s another person out there with the same name drawing this attention?
But, when I click enter and the first photo pops up, it’s like I’m staring at Johnny, only he’s aged, with a full, clean-cut beard, and there’s a sort of darkness to him that my Johnny doesn’t have. The resemblance is uncanny, almost like you put Johnny in one of those age simulators to show how he would look at the age of forty-something.
There’s no denying that this man, this potential criminal, is Johnny’s father.
Here I thought I was doing the right thing, but I may have just opened up a can of worms that can’t be closed. I wanted to find a sweet old grandparent who could share their recipes and family photos, not add another layer of negativity to Johnny’s life.
Rosie cranes her neck to check out my screen. She lowers her voice. “Is that who I think it is?”
I bite my lip and barely bob my head up and down, letting my eyes scan the news articles. My sights land on one from a local gossip paper. Dated only a few months back.
Possible Crime Syndicate Permanently Relocates.
I skim the details, my breath catching when I realize what exactly this means.
Not only is Johnny’s dad alive, and into some bad stuff, but he likely lives within a few miles of us.