A DNA Test Led Me to My Brother, and He Remembers the past I Never Lived

Just last week, my dad surprised me with the latest gaming console for no reason at all.

“What’s this for?” I asked, my eyes wide with excitement.

He just shrugged and smiled. “Do I need a reason to spoil my favorite son?”

“Your only son, you mean,” Mom grinned.

“All the more reason to spoil him!” Dad laughed, ruffling my hair.

That’s how it’s always been. Just the three of us living a perfect life. Perfect until I stumbled across a life-changing fact.

It all started the day I turned 18. I had decided to treat myself to one of those ancestry DNA tests. You know, the ones that tell you if you’re 2% Viking or whatever. I was just curious, nothing more. I never expected it to change my life.

I was literally jumping up and down the day the results came in. I kept refreshing my email every few minutes, waiting for that notification.

“Billy, honey, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep jumping like that,” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Sorry, Mom! I’m just really excited about my DNA results!”

Finally, the email arrived.

I could feel my heart pounding as I clicked on it. I was so excited, unaware that what I’d see next would change my life forever.

There, in black and white, was a notification of a close match. A brother. Daniel.

I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. It had to be a mistake! Right? I’m an only child. I’ve always been an only child

In a daze, I picked up my phone and dialed the company’s helpline. Maybe there was some mix-up.

“Hello, how can I assist you today?” a cheerful voice answered.

“Hi, um, I just got my results and, uh, I think there might be a mistake?” I said, unsure if I was doing the right thing.

“I can assure you, sir, our tests are 100% accurate. We double-check all results before sending them out.”

“Oh, alright,” I said. “Th-thank you.”

I hung up and looked at the results again. This couldn’t be happening. How could I have a brother I didn’t know about?

I needed answers, and I knew just who to ask.

That night, I waited up for Dad to get home from work. I rushed downstairs immediately I heard his car pull into the driveway.

I allowed him to enter the living room before I followed him inside.

“Hey, Dad? Can we talk for a sec?”

He looked up with a smile on his face. “Sure, kiddo. What’s on your mind?”

“So, uh, remember that DNA test I took?” I said, fidgeting with my shirt.

He nodded.

“Well, I got the results today and…” I paused, not sure how to continue. “Dad, do you know someone named Daniel?”

That was the point I knew something was not right. The look on Dad’s face changed in an instant. His eyes widened, and all the color drained from his cheeks.

“Where did you hear that name?” he asked, looking around to ensure Mom wasn’t around.

I told him about the test results. As I spoke, I watched his expressions change. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then said something I wasn’t expecting.

“Listen,” he said in a low voice, “don’t tell your mom about this, alright? She doesn’t know. I had an affair years ago. If she finds out, she’ll leave.”

I nodded, promising not to say anything. But as I returned to my room, something didn’t sit right.

Dad’s reaction seemed off. It was like there was more to the story than he was letting on.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept staring at the test results, wondering what to do next.

Should I… should I text him? I thought.

Texting him meant I’d be going against my dad. But I couldn’t think of another way to find out the truth.

So, I immediately clicked on his profile and reached out to him.

To my surprise, he responded within half an hour.

Billy? Is it really you? I can’t believe it!

We exchanged a few messages, and before I knew it, we’d agreed to meet at a café the next day.

Was I doing the right thing by going behind my dad’s back?

The next morning, I told Mom I was going out with my best friend and walked to the café. I didn’t have to do much to recognize Daniel. I immediately spotted him, and it felt like I was looking in a mirror.

He looked SO MUCH like me.

“Billy?” he asked, standing up.

I nodded, unable to speak. We sat down, and neither of us knew what to say.

Finally, Daniel broke the silence.

“You remember the lake by our old house?” he asked, smiling. “We’d swing on that old, rusty swing set and throw rocks into the water.”

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shook my head. “We never lived together.”

Daniel’s smile faded. “What do you mean? We lived together until we were five or six. Don’t you remember? And Scruffy, the dog, he’d follow us everywhere.”

I felt defensive. This guy was talking nonsense.

“My dad says you’re the affair child. I only found out about you days ago.”

“Wait… you think I’m the affair child?” He asked. “So, you don’t remember that day? The fire?”

“Fire?”

He nodded. “Yeah, our house burned down when we were little. Our parents didn’t make it.”

“What?” I was shocked.

“Yeah, and I remember how you saved me. Afterward, you were adopted, and I was sent to some other family. The adoption process required me never reaching out.”

“That… that can’t be right,” I shook my head. “I’m not adopted. I would know if I was.”

“This is the truth, Billy,” he said. “I don’t know why your parents never told you anything.”

I felt confused and angry once our meeting ended.

How could Mom and Dad do this to me? I thought. How could they hide something so important?

When I got home, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to know more.

So, I snuck into my dad’s office the next day while my parents were out. I felt guilty, but I had to know the truth.

After going through some old documents, I found something proving Daniel was right.

It was a lawsuit about a fire at an apartment building. The same building Daniel told me about.

My hands shook as I read through the documents. The fire had started because of electrical issues in the building, and my adoptive parents were the owners. They ignored complaints about faulty wiring to avoid costly repairs.

Their negligence resulted in the fire that took my biological parents away from me.

What the… I thought. How is this even possible?

There were more documents, and they proved that I was indeed adopted. What hurt the most was that my adoptive parents hadn’t taken me in out of love or compassion. They’d done it to cover their tracks. To avoid a lawsuit.

At that point, I only wanted to do one thing. Confront my parents.

I waited until they got home that evening.

“I didn’t know you used to own this building,” I said, holding up the paper. “What happened with that fire?”

Dad’s eyebrows furrowed, but he tried his best to stay calm.

“Oh, that?” he asked. “That was ages ago. It was a tragedy, really. But why are you looking into that? And why did you go into my office?”

I could see the fear in his eyes. I had never seen Dad so scared before.

“It’s just that I met someone who mentioned a fire,” I revealed. “They said we used to know each other before I was adopted.”

Dad’s eyes widened in shock.

He tried to stammer out an explanation. It was something about not wanting to dredge up painful memories.

But it was too late. I could see the truth written all over his face.

I rushed to my bedroom and packed my belongings. I was done. I couldn’t bear to be in that house anymore.

I called Daniel and asked if I could live with him for a few days, and he agreed.

I remember how Dad kept apologizing as I left the house, but I wasn’t ready to forgive him.

Daniel welcomed me into his house, and we had dinner together.

“They stole you from me,” he said as we ate. “From us.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

All I knew was that my whole life had been a lie, and the people I thought were my loving parents were actually the ones responsible for the death of my real parents.

But as I sat there, I realized this tragedy led me to a real connection. It made me meet my brother, who had been waiting for me all these years.

And I felt grateful for that.