“Mr. and Mrs. Harper,” she greeted us, standing to shake our hands. Her grip was firm, but her eyes flicked to Oliver with something like regret. “I’m so sorry to have caused any distress. It’s just that, in cases like this, we have to follow procedure.”

“I understand,” I replied evenly, though every instinct screamed at me to be angry. My son had been made to question his place in our family. “But we need to clear this up.”

David added, “We’ve brought documentation to prove Oliver is our biological child.”

I handed over the folder, watching Mrs. Campbell’s expression as she leafed through the contents. Relief washed over her face, but my tension didn’t ease.

“This is comprehensive,” she said, looking up at us. “Thank you for understanding our position. We’ll update our records to reflect this.”

“Thank you,” David said, though his voice was clipped. “But we’d like to know who made the call.”

Mrs. Campbell hesitated. “I might be able to request that information, but—”

“Please,” I interjected, my voice soft but insistent. “If it’s someone with malicious intent, we need to protect our family.”

She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As we left the office, a weight lifted slightly. But I knew this wasn’t over. In the car, I turned to David. “We need to talk to Laura.”

David’s jaw tightened. “I know.”

We drove to her house, the suburban landscape blurring past the window. Laura answered the door, surprise etched on her face. Her eyes darted between us, then landed on Oliver.

“Hi!” she said brightly, too brightly. “What brings you here?”

“Can we talk?” David asked, his voice steady but unyielding.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Sure, come in.”

Inside, I watched Oliver settle on the couch with a book Laura handed him. We moved to the kitchen, out of earshot but in sight of our son.

“Laura,” I began, “did you make a call to Oliver’s school?”

She blinked, her expression perfectly innocent. “What do you mean?”

“Someone told the school Oliver isn’t our son,” David said, his voice tight with restraint.

Laura’s eyes widened, a well-practiced gesture of shock. “Why would I do something like that?”

“I don’t know,” I said, holding her gaze. “But you’ve always had issues with me, Laura. If you know anything, we need to hear it.”

She crossed her arms, her demeanor shifting from surprised to defensive. “I didn’t call the school. Why would I try to hurt Oliver?”

“Because you want to hurt Vanessa,” David said, his voice low and dangerous.

Laura looked between us, her facade cracking just a bit. “I love Oliver,” she said, but the emphasis was wrong, like she was trying to convince herself more than us.

I studied her, the tightness in her expression, the way her eyes slid away from mine. Maybe it wasn’t her, but everything pointed in her direction. And if it wasn’t Laura now, it was something she could do in the future.

“We’re going to find out who did this,” I said. “And if you’re involved, we’ll deal with it.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, something like fear flashing across her face.

Back in the car, David sighed heavily. “Do you think she did it?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, watching Oliver in the rearview mirror, absorbed in his book. “But I’m not going to stop until we find out.”

We drove away, the sun setting behind us, casting long shadows on the road ahead. Shadows we’d have to chase down, whatever it took.