“Genetically,” Wilde said, “we are related.”
Silence.
Vicky said, “Do you want to explain what you mean?”
“Silas, you said you signed up for MeetYourFamily-dot-com, right?”
“Right.”
“And they gave you a user number?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember it?”
“Not off the top of my head. It began with a three-two. But I can look—”
“Was it 32894?”
He looked surprised. “That sounds right.”
“And you said you matched someone at twenty-three percent?”
“Wilde,” Vicky said, “what’s going on here?”
“That’s right,” Silas said.
“And when you reached out to the match, did you give your name?”
“Sure. Why not? I have nothing to hide.”
“And the person you matched didn’t reply?”
“No.”
“The person you matched,” Wilde said, “was your brother Peter.”
Neither spoke. They both just stared at him.
“Aren’t siblings like fifty percent?” Vicky asked.
“Yes,” Wilde said.
“Oh my God,” Silas said. “Now it all makes sense.”
Vicky turned to him. “It does?”
“Perfect sense. It’s what I suspected when I first saw the match. I just didn’t think it was Peter.”
“Could you explain to me?” Vicky asked.
“Twenty-three percent,” Silas replied. “That’s a half sibling.”
Vicky still looked confused.
“Come on, Vicky,” Silas said. “It’s Dad. Dad messed around. He knocked someone up. Don’t you see? DNA doesn’t lie. Dad got a woman pregnant. With Peter. Mom and Dad decided to raise him on their own.”
Vicky started to nod slowly. “Dad got a woman pregnant,” she repeated. “Mom took him in. It explains so much.”
“Peter looked like us for one thing,” Silas said. “Better looking. No doubt about it. I bet his real mom was hot.”
“Silas!”
“What? I’m trying to have fun with this because otherwise…” Silas stopped. “My whole childhood feels like a lie now.” He turned his gaze toward Wilde. “You asked me before if I ever suspected. No. But now that I think about it, something wasn’t quite right. I guess that’s true of all families. I haven’t met one that wasn’t messed up in one way or the other. But now, I mean, what the hell, Vicky? Why did we move? I guess Mom would have been ashamed. There’d have been whispers. Our parents were pretty religious.” Silas spread his hands. “So who is going to ask the million-dollar question?”
No one spoke.
“Okay,” Silas said, “I’ll do it: Who was Peter’s mother?”
“She,” Vicky added, turning to Wilde, “has to be the connection to you.”
“Wait,” Silas said. He faced his sister. “Did Peter know that he was adopted?”
“Yes.”
“When he was a kid?”
“No.” Vicky explained how Peter learned the truth via Love Is a Battlefield.
“I don’t get it,” Silas said. “Peter learns he’s adopted. He puts his name in DNA sites. He stays anonymous because, I don’t know, he’s a big fancy star and people are lunatics with big fancy stars. You are a match, Wilde. He reaches out to you. Anonymously. Okay, I get that. But what about me? I matched him as a half brother. I wrote to him. I put my name.”
“So he knew it was you,” Vicky said.
“Right. So why wouldn’t he reach out and tell me? Why would he close down his account and never reply?”
Vicky looked older now, wearied and pained. “I think it was all just too much for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything was taken away from him. His family was a lie. His life with Jenn was a lie. He’d been betrayed by Marnie and the fans he loved. The abuse he took. The betrayals from all sides. They added up. Peter was a gentle soul. You know this. It was all too much for him.”
Silence.
“You think he killed himself,” Silas said.
“Don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Silas said. “I guess I do.”
Vicky turned to Wilde. “You promised to tell us more about what Marnie did to him,” she said, her tone tinged with both sadness and anger. “All we know are the rumors, that Marnie lied about Peter, that he never roofied her or sent her photos. Did she lie, Wilde?”