It started as a holiday joke.
Nothing serious. Nothing emotional.
Just a DNA kit bought on sale, a cheek swab, and a laugh between friends.
Lauren never imagined that one casual decision would quietly dismantle everything she believed about her family — and about herself.
At 31, her life felt stable, maybe even predictable.
A modest townhome outside Richmond. A middle school English classroom. Quiet Friday nights with her cat, Olive, who ruled the house like royalty.
And her mother, Carol — the one constant in her life.
There were no mysteries. No secrets.
At least, that’s what Lauren believed.
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