“I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” she said spitefully. “You’ve done some bonehead shit in the past, but this latest batch of bullshit turned out to be more than my girl could take. Maybe in a few years you’ll be wise enough to look back at all this and realize what a treasure you really had.”

“Audrey, fuck this dumb shit you’re talking. I need to talk to Marlene and get some answers,” he said.

“That envelope should have all the answers you need.” She nodded toward it. Paul looked down at the envelope he was holding as if he had momentarily forgotten it was there. He held it up to the light, but couldn’t make out its contents. He looked at Audrey, who motioned for him to open it. There was something about the smug look on her face that made him hesitate. Paul started to just tuck the envelope away and open it when he got upstairs, but curiosity got the best of him. Careful not to tear the contents of the envelope, Paul ripped it across the top and removed two sheets of paper. The first one was a letter, folded over, and signed in Marlene’s familiar handwriting. The second one was some sort of printout from a medical center, the name of which had been blackened out.

“I don’t understand,” Paul said, reading the printout over and over because he couldn’t believe what it said.

“Harlem niggaz never do,” Audrey mumbled. “That sheet of paper is from a DNA testing center. The little number on the side means that there is less than a one percent chance that you’re P.J.’s dad.”

“Wh … what?” Paul stuttered.

“It’s like Billy Jean, baby: the—kid—is—not—your—son! Take care of yourself, Paul,” Audrey said dryly as she headed back to her car.

The whole world suddenly began to spin for Paul. His eyes transmitted the information to his brain, but it was still caught up in the processing stage. Before he even realized he was moving, he flopped flat on his ass. P.J. had been his son for as many years as the little boy had been on earth. He loved him so much that he refused to believe that science was right. He needed answers and there was only one place he would get them.