One Wild Night

Chapter 7: Spring Cleaning

It was 2017. 

Raquel was arranging her things in her cabinet. So many papers to be thrown out. If only she could throw some pictures as well. She was not the type of person to be so bitter about things that happened after a couple of years. It was better to have a wound bandage removed in one painful swoop than prolong the agony.

She got two huge cardboard boxes and labeled them with Paula's colored pens: one for keeping and one for throwing out. Finally.

She sat on the floor of her bedroom and began arranging important papers and billing statements in chronological order. Two years were the maximum. Anything older should be considered trash unless store warranties require them to be kept for a longer period.

Raquel was now looking at old pictures. None of which were printed family pictures as those were all kept in photo albums or framed. These were some of the printed ones taken on phonecams and digital cameras way back when she used to go out with her friends. She will keep them all, much to her logical mind's dismay, but her sentimental heart couldn't take throwing anything, especially these pics that were taken before camera films went almost obsolete.

She looked at the photos with nostalgia. Some were taken when they went on vacation on various beach resorts. Others were taken at parties. Then she saw the ones printed by Alicia. It was taken in October 2010 at Club Rojo, which she knew still stands to this day. The night of her despedida de soltera. She was surprised she wore that very sexy outfit. It had been years since she went out, and even longer when she wore such clothes. She smiled sadly. Her failed marriage had been half to blame for the changes that she went through, but Raquel knew she should blame herself as well. She was at fault for not standing up for herself and asserting her own person. Even to her ex-husband.

She sighed and dismissed all the what-ifs, piled the pictures and wrapped a rubber band around it and placed them in the 'For Keeping' box.

Raquel was now separating paper files. She went to work on the medical files she kept, mostly consisting of results of her yearly physicals, Paula's sporadic visits to the pediatrician and several prescriptions and drugstore receipts. She decided to keep all the reports and prescriptions but will throw out receipts older than 2015. She was scanning the papers one by one when she saw a two-page report that she was not familiar with.

It read, "Madrid Police Department. DNA Test Report. For Personal Knowledge Only."

What the hell? She didn't remember doing or undergoing any kind of DNA test on anyone at home. She continued reading. The first page contained four columns—the first one contained the medical parameters and the second one of the mother, which said, "Not tested". The third one was of the child being tested, which said "Paula Vicuña Murillo," and the last column was that of the father, which said "Alberto Vicuña."

The numbers didn't make sense to Raquel but she read down further and her heartbeat went up as blood drained from her face.

"Probability of paternity: 00.00%. The alleged father can be excluded as the biological father of the tested child."

No. It can't be. There must a be a fucking mistake!

Raquel took deep breaths as tears formed in her eyes. How could this be? No. There has to be an explanation.

She got up while still holding the report and got her mobile phone and dialed a number despite her hands shaking. It was the station. She arranged for a copy of the complete report—from materials gathered to attending medical techs—which was done in 2014.

Three fucking years! After a few minutes, she received the report via PDF on her phone. She read the file. It was same as the copy. The only thing added was that it was done at the request of Alberto himself.