Chapter 408 Help Me Do a DNA Test with Sarah
In the hospital room, Sarah blinked softly.
She wasn't naive; she could guess why Matthew had lost his composure earlier. Was it because of a familiar face or some buried memories?
"Mom!" Jacob gently tugged at her sleeve.
Sarah snapped back to reality and bent down to pick him up. "Let's go downstairs and get some sun, sweetie."
She gave Nicholas an apologetic smile.
Nicholas patted Jacob's head, his demeanor gentle and refined. "I'll come another time."
Jacob had already learned how to be affectionate. He nuzzled into Nicholas's palm.
Nicholas caught up with Matthew on the first floor. "Grandpa."
Matthew turned around and, for the first time, spoke harshly to Nicholas. "Nicholas! Did you know all along?"
In the corridor, Nicholas remained calm and composed.
He spoke softly, "I only found out when Oliver came to me! That's when I learned her name was Sarah, and that she was my..."
"Shut up! How dare you speak!" Matthew roared.
His eyes were bloodshot as he turned away again, forbidding Nicholas from following.
The afternoon was tranquil.
In the small courtyard of the Moore Mansion, there was a cluster of bamboo, leading to a delicate little flower pavilion.
Matthew leaned back in a mahogany chair.
On the coffee table in front of him, the tea had already cooled.
He closed his eyes slightly, recalling that absurd night.
At that time, he was a middle-aged widower, but his career was at its peak. So many people sought his help that they could have formed a queue from one end of the city to the other, not a few resorting to dark or despicable means. Yet, he meticulously guarded his reputation.
Except for that one time.
That night, he had indeed drunk too much. In the dim lights, he vaguely thought he saw his wife with smooth skin and delicate features.
All night, she spoke in a soft, alluring voice, saying they couldn't do this.
Why not?
When he woke from his drunken stupor, the woman in his arms was not his wife but a stranger.
She said she was from the Miller family.
What more did Matthew need to understand?
He pitied her and didn't want to be blackmailed. He offered her husband some benefits to wrap things up hastily. After that, he never drank another drop of alcohol and never saw the woman again, only knowing she lived a hard life.
Later, he saw a news report that she had jumped to her death.
Matthew was ruthless in the business world.
But now, his eyes were filled with tears.
Was it that night she conceived? Did her life become even harder after that night? It was clearly her husband's scheme, and it was Matthew's mistake while drunk. Why should all the blame fall on a woman?
He called his secretary, Aaron Hill. "Find me the evening paper from May 8, 2004."
Aaron was shocked. "That was 20 years ago, Mr. Moore. It might be impossible to find."
Matthew's authority was undeniable. "Then have the newspaper print me a copy."
Aaron rubbed his nose. He had been by Matthew's side for many years and could tell Matthew was troubled. He immediately said, "Alright! I'll go find it right away."
By evening, he had indeed found it.
The yellowed newspaper, showing its age, was delivered to Matthew. His fingers trembled slightly as he took it, almost afraid to read that social news, but he had to.
The woman lay on the ground. Blood everywhere, long dried. The wind was strong, and on the rooftop, there was a child holding a doll. Though her face was unclear, her body language showed she was terrified.
Matthew gently touched the yellowed newspaper. Tears welled up in his eyes.
Was this child the result of that night's mistake, the one he had inadvertently fathered?
Good and evil were separated by a thin line.
In the brief twilight, he reflected on his life and considered his reputation and future.
He understood that if he acknowledged Sarah, the Moore family might face turbulent times.
The last bit of twilight disappeared.
Isabella brought in tea and turned on the light. "Dad, it's completely dark. Why didn't you turn on the light?"
The light illuminated the room.
Matthew's face still showed traces of complex emotions. After a moment, he spoke hoarsely, "Isabella! Where's Aaron?"
"Aaron went back to the office." Isabella set down the new tea and took away the old.
As she placed the tea, she noticed the old newspaper and was taken aback. "Dad, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
Matthew leaned back in his chair. He covered his eyes with his hand and asked Isabella softly, "Yesterday, when you visited Sarah, what did you think?"
Isabella was smart. But she wasn't privy to the details, so she spoke from her heart. "I think Ms. Miller is wonderful. I have a good impression of her. Regardless, Nicholas interacting with such an outstanding woman is beneficial."
Matthew removed his hand and looked at her quietly. He seemed to be contemplating, making a decision that would affect the Moore family's future.
After a long time, he spoke in a deep voice, "That's good!"
He picked up the new tea and drank slowly.
After finishing the tea, he looked up. His old eyes were filled with shrewd calculation. "There's something, Isabella, that I can only trust you to handle. I don't trust anyone else."
Isabella smiled faintly. "What's so important? Even Aaron can't handle it?"
"Family matters," Matthew said. "I need a DNA test."
Isabella was completely stunned. It took her a while to recover. "Dad, what are you saying? You've always kept yourself clean, never having anyone close to you."
Matthew felt a bit ashamed. He leaned back on the sofa and slowly revealed the story. The process was shocking to Isabella, but she was from a prestigious family and had some composure.
After she calmed down, she poured tea for Matthew, speaking gently, "It was an accident. Mrs. Miller was also a pitiful woman, and her children are even more pitiful after her death. If we didn't know, it would be one thing. But now that we do, first, Sarah saved Nicholas's life, and second, there's a blood relation. If you don't acknowledge her today, you'll regret it in the future. Third, she is struggling now. If we don't help, who will?"
Isabella's gentle words made Matthew feel much better. He glanced at Isabella. "You talk too much! The DNA test isn't done yet; it might be a mistake!"
Isabella took away the tea and invited him to the front hall for dinner. "What result do you hope for, Dad?"
Matthew couldn't help but look at Isabella.
She said softly, "I'd be happy to have a sister! I think Vaughn would be happy too, and Nicholas even more so. Our family is small. If Sarah comes back with two children, it would be lively. You'd be a grandpa twice over, and you'd need to prepare gifts."
In the dim light, Matthew said nothing more.
That night, Isabella told her husband about the situation.
Vaughn Moore lay with his hands behind his head and spoke softly, "Our family has been smooth sailing all these years. Nicholas can live his life as he wishes, and I don't have to pursue a political career, all thanks to Dad's effort. At crucial times, we must repay his kindness, right?"
Isabella's hair spread across the pillow. She nestled against Vaughn's shoulder, speaking softly, "Exactly. Dad doesn't say it, but I can tell he wants to acknowledge Sarah. He's probably worried we won't be happy."
Vaughn smiled faintly. "Why wouldn't we be happy? Without her, Nicholas wouldn't be here."
Isabella hugged Vaughn tightly. She deeply loved Vaughn and every member of this family. She was willing to help Matthew with his troubles.
Two days later, Sarah was in her private office, taking inventory.
She told her assistant, "Selling too well can be a burden. Contact the artists on this list and see if they have any stock. If not, don't push them. Creating art takes time."
The assistant nodded and left.
But she soon returned, looking troubled. "Ms. Miller, Mrs. Moore is here again. She signed a $40 million check."
Sarah had a hunch. But business was business; personal feelings didn't come into play. She went out to meet the guest.
Isabella was as elegant as ever. She carried a designer handbag, her face warm and smiling, genuinely praising, "Sarah, your design, renovation, and storefront are truly thoughtful. I love it."
Sarah smiled politely. "Thank you, Mrs. Moore, for your support."
Isabella immediately suggested, "We've met several times but never had a proper chat. I wanted to invite you to our home, but I was afraid it might be too forward. How about we go to a café and have some coffee?"
How could Sarah refuse?
Five minutes later, they were sitting in a café across the street.
A servant from the Moore family brought a food box with delicate, lovely pastries.
Isabella took them out and offered them to Sarah.
Her words were gentle and comforting. "I should have made more for Jacob to try, but Nicholas said Jacob's stomach was upset. We'll save it for another time at home. Our cook may not be great at everything, but their Red Bean Pie is exceptional."
"I heard you like red beans." she smiled. "What a coincidence! My father loves them too."
Her words had a deeper meaning.
Sarah understood.
But she couldn't bear to reveal the truth about her mother's suicide; it was too cruel.
Her birth was marked by her mother's blood and tears.
Even so, in her childhood memories, her mother never blamed her and even loved her dearly. She always held her in the evening sun, calling her name, saying, "It would be wonderful if you grew up to be like him!"
Sarah didn't know who "he" was back then.
Now she knew.
As Sarah was lost in thought, Isabella exclaimed, "There's a white hair here! Sarah, let me pull it out..."
Sarah snapped back to reality, and the hair was already in Isabella's hand.
Isabella smiled slightly. "It's gone!"
Sarah didn't mind.
Isabella had something on her mind and left after sitting for a short while.
After she left, Sarah slowly finished her half cup of coffee before preparing to leave. A tall figure sat across from her.
It was Oliver.
He looked at her quietly, his tone gentle. "Why are you meeting with Mrs. Moore again?"
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