“The results conclusively show,” the judge announced, her voice clear and firm, “that there is no genetic relationship between the minor child and Mrs. Elizabeth Parker. Therefore, it can be concluded that James Wilson was not the father of this child.”
A collective gasp filled the room. Sarah’s face crumpled as she began to sob, mascara running down her cheeks.
“Miss Thompson,” the judge’s voice had turned stern, “would you care to explain why you perpetrated this fraud upon the court?”
Sarah clutched the baby closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was seeing several men at the time. When James died and was cremated, I thought no one would ever know. He had money and I needed—”
“So you attempted to defraud your own sister,” the judge’s disapproval was palpable. “Used your parents as unwitting accomplices in this scheme.”
“I just wanted security for my baby,” Sarah whimpered, but her performance had lost its power. Even our parents looked stunned, finally realizing the extent of her deception.