“I don’t care about your standard three-day processing window,” Christopher said into his phone.

“I paid four hundred dollars for the overnight courier.”

I held the plastic baby bottle tight against my stomach so the cap wouldn’t rattle.

“I need the DNA match report on my desk before eight tomorrow morning,” Christopher said.

“Compare the infant swab directly against the Winslow biological baseline on file.”

I heard papers shifting on the wooden desk inside.

“If there’s a direct biological match to the family line, I need the official lab certificate attached,” Christopher said, his tone dripping with fake calm.