I opened the envelope with steady hands.

The first page was a DNA report dated August 14, 2007, from a private lab outside Chicago.

It listed two names: Thomas Richards and Natalie Richards.

The result sat in black type near the bottom of the page.

Probability of paternity: 99.9998%.

I held it up high enough for the front rows to see.

‘You were saying?’ I asked.

A wave moved through the courtyard.

It was not one sound.