The Result

Anna’s POV

First, I heard the steady beeping beside my bed. Then, I noticed my own breathing. For a few seconds, I didn’t know where I was, and then the ceiling above me came into focus, followed by the white walls, the IV attached to my hand, and the dull ache spreading through my body.

Wait… I was in the hospital and I was alive. I tried to move my fingers, and the small movement sent a strange wave of weakness through my arm.

“Don’t try to sit up yet.” I opened my eyes. A nurse beside my bed, checking the monitor.

“How long?” My voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Since the surgery?” I nodded. “About six hours.”

Six hours… I stared at the ceiling. It felt like I had only been unconscious for a few minutes. “Did it go well?” The nurse smiled.

“The doctor will speak to you soon but everything went according to plan.” I closed my eyes. According to plan. Those were the words I wanted to hear.

For once, I allowed myself to relax. My hand moved instinctively towards my chest, and I felt the slow rhythm of my heartbeat beneath my palm.

I was still here. That was enough; at least for now.

When I woke up again, the room was darker.

I turned my head towards the window and noticed the sky had changed, the grey afternoon light slowly fading into evening.

My phone was on the bedside table. I stared at it but I hadn’t remembered leaving it there. Then I remembered the operating room, Mark’s name on the screen, the decision not to answer.

My chest tightened for a moment but I pushed the feeling away. I reached for the phone and there were several missed calls.

I didn’t open them. Instead, I turned the phone over and placed it back on the table. I wasn’t ready yet. The door swung open.

The doctor walked in holding a file. He smiled when he saw that I was awake. “Good.” I tried to smile back. “How bad do I look?”

“Like someone who just had a surgery.” I laughed softly but the moment made my stomach hurt. “Then I suppose that’s good.” He pulled the chair beside the bed.

“The surgery went well.” I nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re going to need plenty of rest, but your recovery is looking positive.” Relief washed over me again.

“So I can go home?” He hesitated. It was brief but I noticed. My smile faded a little.

“What?” He looked down at the file in his hands. “There’s something else we need to discuss.” My palms went cold.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened during the surgery.”

“Then what is it?” He opened the file.

“I was reviewing some of your medical information.” I waited. His eyes moved across the page.

“According to the history you’ve provided, you were raised by your father, Brian Carthwell.”

“Yes.”

“And your mother?” I frowned. “I don’t know about her.”

He looked up. “Do you know everything about your birth?” That question hit hard.

“What does that have to do with my surgery?”

“Normally, it wouldn’t.”

Normally. That word stayed in my mind. I looked at him. “Then why are you asking?” He closed the file.

“Some of your results don’t align perfectly with the family history you’ve given us.” I stared at him.

“What does that mean?”

“We’re not certain yet.” My heart began to beat faster.

“Not certain about what?” He took a breath.

“Your genetic information.” I didn’t speak. The room suddenly felt much colder.

“What about it?”

“There are certain markers in your results that don’t correspond with what we’d expect based on the family information you’ve provided.”

I swallowed. “Are you saying something is wrong with me?”

“No.” His answer came immediately.

“Not at all.”

“Then what?” He looked at the file again. “We need to run another test.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to make an assumption based on one result.”

“What kind of test?”

“A genetic test.” My fingers tightened around the blanket. I almost laughed because it sounded ridiculous. “Doctor, I’m here because I just had surgery. Why are we talking about genetics?”

“Because sometimes medical results reveal things we weren’t looking for.” I had never been this confused in my whole life.

“Why things?” He didn’t answer immediately and my God! The silence frightened me much more than anything he could’ve said.

“Doctor?” He finally looked at me.

“We need to verify your biological information.” My mouth went dry.

“My biological information?”

“Yes.”

I looked towards the window. I had never had a reason to question who I was. I was Anna Carthwell, Brian was my father, Sandra had raised me… that was the story. It was that simple.

“Could the test be wrong?” I asked.

“Yes.” The answer gave me relief. “That’s why we’re repeating it.” I nodded slowly.

“When will you know?”

“A few days.”

A few days. I looked at the beeping machine… just a few days ago, I had been worried about surviving an operation. Now, I was lying in a hospital bed wondering whether the story of my own birth was true.

The doctor stood. “Try not to worry tonight.”

I smiled. “That’s easy for you to say.”

He gave me a sympathetic look. “I know.” He walked towards the door then stopped.

“Anna?”

“Yes?”

“Whatever the result shows, remember that a medical test doesn’t change who you are.”

I looked at him with all surprise. “Doesn’t it?” He didn’t answer. He simply left and the doors shut behind him.

His words repeated in my mind. “A medical test doesn’t change who you are.” Maybe it didn’t but it changed everything I thought I knew.

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, the doctor’s word returned. Genetic information, biological information, family history.

I had never cared about any of it before. Why would I? Brian had raised me, Sandra had been there for me. Those were the people who mattered but now there was a question sitting at the back of my mind that refused to disappear.

What if there was something I didn’t know? I reached for my phone. This time, I opened the messages. Most of them were from Mark.

“Where are you?”

“Please call me.”

“I’m serious.”

“I need to know that you’re safe.” I stared at the last message. My thumb hovered over the screen. I really did but I didn't know what I would say.

“I’m safe.”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“I just had surgery.”

“The Doctor thinks there might be something strange about my DNA.”

The thoughts made me stop. No. I wasn’t telling him. At least not yet. For once, something was happening in my life that had nothing to do with our marriage.

I locked the phone then I turned towards the window. The city lights blurred through my tired eyes. I thought about my childhood, the first home I remembered, Sandra holding my hand, Brian carrying me when I was too tired to walk, the birthday cakes, school uniforms, photographs…everything.

Nothing had ever felt strange so why did it suddenly feel like there was a missing piece? I closed my eyes and reassured myself that the test would come back normal and the doctor had simply made a mistake.

Maybe tomorrow I would laugh about this. I really wanted to believe that. I needed to.

Three days later, the doctor walked into my room carrying a file. He didn’t smile. That was the first thing I noticed. I sat up slowly.

“What happened?” He didn’t answer. My heart began to race. “Doctor?” He placed the file on the table.

“We received the results.” I looked at the file. My throat felt heavy.

“And?” He pulled the chair closer.

“I need you to stay calm.” I stared at him. “Why?”

He opened the file. His eyes moved across the page before mine. “Because the first test wasn’t wrong.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “What does that mean?” He turned the page towards himself.

“It means the genetic information we found wasn’t consistent with the family history you’ve given us.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Can you explain that?” He nodded slowly.

“We ran the test again.”

“And?” He looked at me for a long moment.

“The result was the same.” Everywhere went silent.

“What are you saying?” I asked.

He closed the file. “Anna, there’s something about your biological history that you don’t know.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “What?” He hesitated. Then he said the words that would change everything I knew about myself.

“We need to investigate who your biological parents actually are.”