Isabella POV
The DNA testing facility felt like a sterile cathedral of modern science, all white walls and gleaming equipment designed to reveal genetic truths that could destroy everything I'd believed about my identity. I sat in the waiting room beside Richard Morrison, studying the man who claimed to be my biological uncle while trying to see any family resemblance in his weathered features.
"You look like him," Richard said quietly, noting my scrutiny. "James had the same eyes, the same stubborn set to his chin when he was thinking through complex problems."
The words hit harder than they should have, carrying implications about family connections I'd never imagined existed. Because if Richard was telling the truth, if he really was my biological father's brother, then I had living family members who'd been excluded from my life for twenty-five years.
"Tell me about him," I said, though dread was pooling in my stomach. "About my biological father."
