Thank you so much for your awesome reviews! :D I'm glad you're still here and paying attention. Now, what is the result of the DNA test?

Chapter 18

The pile of marking on her table was an obvious reminder that Clara had postponed her schoolwork for much too long and there was no way she could put it off any longer. In between the discovery of the dead woman and the break-in, Clara just hadn't had the energy to focus on her students' papers on Macbeth. Yet just when she was about to sit down with the first essay, Clara heard the doorbell ring. For a moment, she considered ignoring it, but the knock soon followed along with John Smith's voice.

"Clara, are you home?" he called through the door. "I need to talk to you."

It was the gravity of his voice that gave it away, the reason why he had come here. As Clara rose from her sofa and approached the door, she knew what it would be about and she used the last remaining seconds alone to prepare herself for the news.

John granted her an apologetic smile when she opened the door because when he spotted the cosy trousers and oversized jumper, he knew that he had interrupted her. Yet after looking at him, Clara glanced past John and eventually frowned.

"If your plan was to go for a walk, I think you forgot your dog," she joked.

He chuckled softly, but quickly reminded himself that he had come here because of a rather more serious matter. "I, um, I actually came to talk to you," he replied cautiously. "Can I come in for a moment?"

"Sure," Clara said and in response, she held the door open a little wider, but John could tell from her voice that she already had an inkling it wouldn't be an entirely pleasant conversation.

Once inside, Clara quickly excused herself, promising him a cup of tea and telling John to make himself comfortable while he walked through to the living room. As he sank down on the sofa, John once again noticed how much he liked Clara's house. It wasn't messy, but it certainly wasn't a museum where everything had its spot and wasn't allowed to be moved. It was so cosy and homely that John couldn't help but like being here. Then his eyes fell on the stack of papers on her coffee table and he picked up the first sheet only to realise that it was obviously a student's essay – and not a particularly good one. Clara had already marked four spelling errors on the first half of the page.

"For the sake of your own sanity, don't read that," Clara warned him when she walked back into the room. She was carrying two steaming mugs and the faint aroma of tea already filled the air.

John laughed at her remark and put the paper back down as she handed him one of the mugs. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "And I honestly don't know how you deal with how they butcher the English language."

"Well, my purpose is to teach them to do better," Clara explained and sat down in the chair across from him. Initially, John felt a little disappointed and he realised that he had hoped she would sit next to him. What he was about to tell her would be hard to swallow and on the way here, he had pictured himself comforting her. What a silly thought.

"I guess you're right," he said in reply, smiling weakly. He had to tell her now or the courage might leave him, but before he started, he took a long, deep breath.

"You said you had something to talk to me about?" Clara asked and he watched her blow on her tea to cool it down – a hopeless task when it was still almost boiling.

"Yeah," he breathed in response. "We received the results of your DNA test."

There was no point beating around the bush. Clara had a right to know.

She raised her head to look at him, her eyebrows cocked. "Oh? What does it say?"

All the words he had so carefully laid out on his way here suddenly evaporated from his mind and John had no idea where to start, how to say it. He often had to be the bearer of bad news, but the result of the test was on a scale that could shake her whole world. Once more, he breathed in deeply. "Clara, the result is not what I had expected, to be honest," he explained. "But the test showed that you and Jane Doe are indeed related to each other."

For a long moment, Clara merely looked at him, blinking a couple of times while the news slowly sank in. Yet even when she appeared to have understood his words, she said nothing, so John decided to continue.

"In fact, according to the test results, there is no doubt that you are identical twins."

"Twins?" she asked, frowning at him in response. "Are you sure?"

John nodded. "I know this must come as a shock to you, but I have to ask-"

"I had no idea," Clara replied, cutting him off. "I swear, I didn't know."

"Alright," John said softly and he decided to believe her. What else could he do? Call her a liar when she was obviously surprised? When she showed no signs of grief for her sister? "Alright. I know it's hard to swallow."

To his surprise, Clara scoffed. "My parents had another daughter and they never told me, so, yeah, it is hard to swallow and frankly, hard to believe at all."

"We can do another test, but I don't think we have to. The resemblance is there. The only other option would have been a doppelganger," he explained. "And the lab results are usually very reliable."

For a while, Clara didn't say anything and she didn't look at him. Instead, her eyes wandered around the room while she was obviously trying to come to terms with the news. Again, John regretted not being next to her because he could have taken her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

"Who was she?" Clara wanted to know and now, her eyes were on him. "What was her name? What happened to her? Where did she grow up if not with me?"

"We'll figure it out," John promised her. They had a lead now, at last. "Now that we know you have the same parents, we'll find out. I'm assuming that she was given up for adoption for whatever reason, so there will be papers. It's going to take a few days, but we'll find out who she was."

"Will you let me know?" Clara asked.

John smiled at her in response. "Of course," he said sincerely. "As of now, you're the only known living relative."

"Well, my dad's still alive," she argued.

"That would have been my next question," he said weakly. "If you could give me his phone number or address so we can contact him, that would be very helpful."

Without a warning, Clara rose from her seat and walked over to the cabinet where she opened a drawer and retrieved a small card. A few seconds later, she handed it to him.

"Your father has a card?" John asked in disbelief as he turned the small piece of paper over in his hand. It was laminated in a manner that wasn't especially sophisticated.

"Dad has a friend who likes to laminate things," Clara explained as she rolled her eyes. "Don't ask."

John chuckled softly as he pocketed the card, vowing to call her father first thing in the morning. "I won't," he promised.

"Who will… take care of her?" Clara asked, taking him by surprise once again.

At first, John didn't quite understand what she was talking about, but Clara quickly went on.

"Jane Doe, whatever her name was," she explained. "Who's going to arrange the funeral? I mean, she should have a proper burial, shouldn't she?"

"Absolutely," John reassured her instantly. "First, we'll have to find out if any of her relatives are still alive. Her adoptive relatives, I mean. Maybe some friends. If we can find them, they should have a say in it."

In response, Clara nodded slowly, but there was something in her eyes that told him their conversation had come to an end. He rose from his seat, but before he left, John had to make sure that she would be okay. After everything Clara had been through these past few days, he felt bad for leaving her, but he also had a hungry dog waiting for him at home.

"Will you be alright?" he asked carefully.

To his relief, Clara nodded and then granted him a smile. "Of course," she said. "It's just… you know, a lot. And quite unexpected. I think it's going to take me a few days to actually understand it."

"Do you want me to stay for a while longer?" he asked hopefully. A part of him was hoping she would say yes.

"There's no need," Clara replied. "Besides, I know a hungry dog who might tear your furniture apart in despair."

"Right," John said, chuckling. "Better get home before that happens. But if you need something, anything, just let me know, alright?"

When Clara nodded, John knew that the moment to leave had come, but as he turned around and started to walk towards the door, he heard Clara's voice once again and it made him turn back around.

"When we first talked, you offered to buy me a cup of coffee," Clara said and in response, John frowned at her. He remembered the morning he had run into Clara and he remembered that stupid, silly question, but he had hoped that she would have forgotten that embarrassing moment by now in which his mouth had been so much quicker than his brain.

"Yes?" he asked cautiously.

Clara granted him a smile. "Does that offer still stand?"

For a moment, John had no idea what to say.

"Amy and I had a conversation the other day and she wasn't wrong. I do need to get out of the house more often," she explained with a shrug. "After all that has happened lately, I'd feel safer in the presence of a detective."

The recent conversation with Kate Stewart came back to his mind as did the note he was hiding in his drawer and John knew that it was possibly a bad idea to go out with a potential suspect. But he knew that Clara would never actually remain a suspect for long and he knew that sharing a conversation over a cup of coffee was all that would happen, so he smiled at her in return.

"Does Saturday sound good to you?" John asked.

The smile that appeared on Clara's face alone was worth it. "Sounds good."