He’s going to have to take another DNA test to get his name on that birth certificate

He’s going to have to take another DNA test to get his name on that birth certificate

She know Kia isn't Ant son you see how low her voice is Ant think for once do the test before you

 change the last name so you don't screw yourself this isn't your son have it mailed to Piarrys house don't let them know

 what ur doing let her go out shopping watch the baby and do the test be smart for once

Anthony had convinced himself he already knew the truth.
Kai wasn’t his son.

He had spent months believing it, letting the rumors sink into his mind,

 convincing himself that Amber had been lying. That she had been with someone else. That she was just trying to trap him.

But now, as he sat in his car outside the clinic, staring at the DNA results in his shaking hands…

His whole world tilted.
Kai was his son.
99.9%. No doubts. No questions. No escape.

---

The Moment of Truth
It had started as a challenge.

Anthony was tired of hearing people go back and forth, tired of Amber insisting, tired of Wayne getting involved.

So he told Amber straight to her face:
"If he's mine, prove it."
Amber didn’t hesitate.

"Fine," she had said. "Let’s get the test."
A week later, the results were in.
And Anthony had been dead wrong all along.

But the whispers never truly died down. There was something about the timing, the way Shaylla had seemed… different, during a two-week period back in June, that didn't quite add up.

Tonight, however, the murmurs possessed a new, sharper edge. 

The Harmony Creek Gazette, a weekly paper known more for its flower show results than investigative journalism, had run a front-page story: 

"Truth Revealed: The True Father of Shaylla's Baby Uncovered The article detailed the results of a DNA test, anonymously commissioned. The results were undeniable: Mark was not the father.

The diner buzzed. Eyes darted towards Mark, sitting alone in a booth by the window, his face a mask of pale shock. He’d come to the diner every Tuesday night, a tradition he’d shared with Shaylla. Tonight, his coffee sat untouched, the steam curling around his head like a question mark.