November 10, Monday
barrel proof bourbon bottled at the proof it was aged, without dilution
OCTAVIA'S VOICE sounded in my ear as I paced the narrow confines of the laundry room. Outside, rain drummed against the metal roof, creating a cocoon of sound that made the conversation feel more private.
"I've been thinking about your situation," she said, her tone businesslike. "There might be a faster way to get preliminary answers before we go any further with the investigation."
I stopped pacing. "How?"
"DNA facial recognition. Have you heard of it?"
The phrase tugged at my memory. "Actually, yes. When I went to the lab with Tom Feldon for his paternity test, I saw a sign advertising it. But I didn't pay much attention at the time."
"It's relatively new technology. The lab can analyze facial features from photographs and compare them to your DNA sample. They look for genetic markers that influence bone structure, eye spacing, nose shape—traits that indicate biological relationship."
I sank onto my bed, phone pressed to my ear. "So they'd compare my face to Boyd's face?"
"Exactly. If you can provide clear photographs of Boyd Biggs, the lab can run the analysis against your existing DNA profile. They already have your sample on file from the Feldon test."
"And this actually works?" Skepticism crept into my voice. "It sounds like something from a science fiction movie."
"The technology is solid," Octavia assured me.
"Obviously it's not as definitive as a direct paternity test—you'd still need Boyd's DNA for absolute certainty.
But facial recognition can indicate likelihood of relationship with about seventy to eighty percent accuracy.
It analyzes thousands of genetic markers that influence facial morphology. "
I stood and walked to the small mirror hanging near the sink, studying my reflection. My mother's brown eyes stared back at me, but what about my bone structure? The shape of my jaw? Were those features inherited from Boyd Biggs?
"How does the process work exactly?"
"The lab uses algorithms to map facial landmarks—things like the distance between your eyes, the width of your cheekbones, the angle of your jaw.
Then they correlate those measurements with specific genetic variants in your DNA.
When they compare your genetic facial profile to Boyd's photograph, the software can determine probability of biological relationship. "
"So they don't need his DNA at all? Just a picture?"
"Just clear, front-facing photographs, preferably at different ages. The software can extrapolate genetic information from facial features captured in the images. I can help you find photos of Boyd. The lab will take your photo on-site."
Rain intensified against the van roof, matching the tempo of my racing thoughts. This could give me answers without confronting Boyd directly, without risking the exposure that would come from requesting his DNA.
"Is it expensive?"
"It's not cheap, but I can get you a discount through the agency. If the facial recognition comes back showing high probability that Boyd is your father, you'll have leverage going into a conversation with him. And if it comes back negative, you can stop worrying and move on."
The logic was sound. My hand tightened around the phone. "It's worth trying."
"I agree. Call and make an appointment. I'll find some good photos of Boyd."
"Okay. Thanks, Octavia."
I ended the call and hope fluttered in my chest. If the test was negative, I could try to repair things with Dylan. And if the test was positive…
I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.