Perfect Genes and Dirty Secrets
Language: en
My wife and I were the ultimate power couple—both graduates of an Ivy League track, top of our class, with IQs that were practically footnotes in our resumes. Yet our son, Fitch, couldn’t grasp simple addition and subtraction up to ten. I dragged him for ten separate paternity tests, driving myself insane. Every single report was unequivocal: Paternal Relationship Confirmed. I sank into a deep, terrifying self-doubt until I accompanied my wife back to her hometown. There, while idly flipping through her old high school yearbook, a faded photograph tucked inside the pages made my world…