Chapter 6: The Other Embryo
For several seconds, I could only hear the rain.
It tapped against the windows.
It tapped against the glass doors.
It tapped against the ruined cake box still sitting beside the kitchen island.
Inside my head, everything was louder.
Mark Hayes and Lauren Hayes.
That was what the document said.
The embryo was registered to us.
But I was already eight months pregnant.
My son was already inside me.
So what exactly had my mother-in-law been planning to transfer tomorrow?
Mark looked at Marissa.
“Start from the beginning.””
Marissa shook her head.
“Not here.””
“Here.””
“You need to hear this somewhere private.””
“My wife was slapped in front of thirty relatives tonight. Privacy is gone.””
Chloe slowly sank back into her chair.
“I need to know.””
Marissa looked at her.
“So do I,” Chloe whispered.
“Even if it destroys me.””
Evelyn stood near the doorway, arms wrapped around herself.
“You're all misunderstanding.””
Mark turned toward her.
“Then correct us.””
She didn't.
His eyes moved to Marissa.
“You said the embryo registered to us was changed six months ago.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
“You do.””
Marissa's expression tightened.
“I know who requested the change.””
“Who?””
She looked at Evelyn.
“Your mother.””
Mark closed his eyes.
“Of course.””
He took a slow breath.
“Why would she register an embryo under our names?””
Marissa slid another document across the table.
“Because the embryo currently inside Lauren is not the embryo your mother intended to transfer.””
My stomach tightened.
Mark looked at the page.
“Then what is inside Lauren?””
Marissa hesitated.
“We don't know.””
Chloe suddenly stood.
“That isn't possible.””
“It is.””
“An embryo has to have a chain of custody.””
“It should.””
Marissa's voice was bitter.
“But someone broke that chain.””
Mark leaned forward.
“Who?””
Marissa tapped the document.
“Six months ago, your mother's account authorized the release of an embryo from cryostorage.””
I looked at Evelyn.
She was crying silently now.
“The release form says it was for Chloe and David.””
Chloe nodded.
“That was our embryo.””
“According to the records.””
Marissa opened another file.
“The embryo was assigned a new storage code that morning.””
Mark frowned.
“What happened after that?””
“It was supposed to be transferred into a gestational carrier.””
I swallowed.
“Me.””
“Yes.””
“But I never agreed.””
“That's why the fake consent existed.””
Mark's hands curled into fists.
“What embryo was transferred into my wife?””
Marissa shook her head.
“That's where the records become impossible.””
She produced a page with three columns.
Original embryo ID.
Released embryo ID.
Current genetic record.
The first two had been handwritten.
The third had been entered digitally.
Mark stared at the last column.
“Why is there no genetic record?””
“Because someone deleted it.””
“Can it be recovered?””
“Yes.””
His head snapped up.
“You can recover it?””
Marissa nodded.
“Not here.””
“Where?””
“At the clinic.””
Mark grabbed his coat.
“We're going.””
Marissa stood.
“You can't walk in there without a warrant.””
“Then we'll call the police.””
“Good.””
Evelyn stepped forward.
“No.””
Mark stared at her.
She shook her head.
“Please.””
“Why?””
“Because the moment the police pull those records, they will find everything.””
“That's the idea.””
Her face crumpled.
“I was trying to protect you.””
“Stop saying that.””
His voice cracked.
“You keep using that sentence like it makes any of this disappear.””
Evelyn wiped her cheeks.
“You think your father was innocent.””
Mark looked confused.
“What does Dad have to do with this?””
“Everything.””
She walked toward the table.
“You keep asking why I used his signature.””
Mark said nothing.
“I didn't create the signature.””
Marissa looked sharply at her.
Evelyn reached into her purse.
She pulled out an old envelope.
“I found this after he died.””
She placed it on the table.
Mark opened it.
Inside was a handwritten note.
His father's handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
It was shakier than the signature on the legal document, but unmistakably his.
Mark read aloud.
> “Evelyn, when the time comes, do not let them tell Mark the truth until he is ready.””
He stopped.
His eyes moved to the next line.
> “The child must remain with the woman carrying it.””
My hand covered my mouth.
Chloe whispered, “What child?””
Mark kept reading.
> “The mistake made six years ago cannot be repeated.””
Then, at the bottom:
*Daniel.*
Mark lowered the paper.
“What mistake?””
Evelyn sat down.
She looked suddenly exhausted.
“The baby.””
Mark's voice was cold.
“What baby?””
“The Mercer baby.””
Chloe stood again.
“My husband?””
Evelyn nodded.
“Six years ago, David and Chloe came to the clinic.””
Marissa interrupted.
“No.””
Evelyn looked at her.
“You know what happened.””
“You know your version.””
“Then tell him yours.””
Marissa's face tightened.
She pulled out the photograph of Daniel holding the newborn.
“Six years ago, there was a failed transfer.””
Mark listened.
“Chloe's embryo didn't survive.””
Chloe stared at the photograph.
“But Mom told me it had.””
“She lied.””
Chloe's mouth opened.
Marissa continued.
“She couldn't accept that Chloe's last embryo was gone. Daniel offered to pay for another attempt.””
Evelyn shook her head.
“That isn't how it happened.””
Marissa ignored her.
“Then another couple's embryo was accidentally thawed.””
Mark looked at the photograph.
“And?””
“And it was transferred.””
“To whom?””
Marissa took a breath.
“To Marissa.””
Evelyn jumped in.
“She was already pregnant.””
Mark looked at her.
“You were pregnant?””
Marissa shook her head.
“I was a carrier for another client.””
My skin prickled.
“So the baby Daniel was holding…”
“Was not mine genetically.””
Mark stared at the photograph.
“Then whose?””
Marissa looked at Chloe.
“That was the Mercer embryo.””
Chloe's lips parted.
“My baby?””
“No.””
Marissa's answer was immediate.
“Not yours.””
Chloe's face collapsed.
“Then David’s?””
“Yes.””
She looked at the photograph.
“David and another woman.””
A stunned silence followed.
Mark frowned.
“Another woman?””
Marissa nodded.
“David's first wife.””
Chloe stumbled backward.
“My husband was married before me?””
Evelyn spoke quietly.
“They divorced.””
“When?””
“Eight years ago.””
Mark looked at Chloe.
“Did David tell you?””
She shook her head.
“He said there had never been anyone serious.””
Marissa gave her a sad look.
“He lied.””
Chloe sank into the chair.
“Why?””
“Because the woman died.””
The room fell silent again.
I stared at Marissa.
“What's her name?””
“Rachel Mercer.””
Mark looked at Chloe.
“And the baby?””
Marissa hesitated.
“That's where Daniel became involved.””
Evelyn whispered, “He found the child.””
Mark stared at his mother.
“Found?””
“The baby survived.””
“Where?””
Evelyn looked at me.
“In this family.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
Mark turned toward me.
“What are you saying?””
Evelyn's eyes filled.
“The baby from six years ago was raised by someone in this family.””
Chloe suddenly stood.
“Who?””
Nobody answered.
She looked from Evelyn to Marissa.
Then to Mark.
“Who raised him?””
Evelyn's lips trembled.
“Daniel arranged everything.””
Mark's voice shook.
“Who?””
Evelyn finally whispered,
“Me.””
Mark went completely still.
“You raised that baby?””
“I took him.””
“From whom?””
“From the hospital.””
“You stole a child?””
“No!””
“Then what?””
Evelyn was sobbing now.
“The mother was dying. David didn't want him. He wanted to pretend the baby never existed.””
Chloe stared at her.
“So you took him?””
“Yes.””
“Where is he?””
Evelyn couldn't answer.
Mark stepped closer.
“Where is he?””
“I gave him away.””
Chloe covered her mouth.
“To whom?””
Evelyn whispered the name.
“Someone Daniel trusted.””
Mark stared at her.
“Who?””
She looked at me.
And I knew before she said it.
“No,” I whispered.
Evelyn nodded.
“The woman who agreed to take him…”
Her voice broke.
“…was Lauren's mother.””
My knees nearly buckled.
My mother?
I had heard stories about her working overseas when I was younger.
I had been told she spent several years caring for a friend's child.
A child everyone said had been abandoned.
I had never questioned it.
Mark looked at me.
“You knew?””
“No.””
“I swear I didn't.””
Marissa stepped closer.
“That's why your medical records matter.””
I turned.
“What do you mean?””
“Your mother had access to the child.””
“So?””
“She also had access to your medical history.””
My heart began racing.
Marissa opened one final file.
“This was recovered from your mother's old storage account.””
She slid a photograph toward me.
It showed a little boy.
Maybe two years old.
Dark hair.
Round cheeks.
A faint birthmark near his left ear.
I stared at the image.
I had seen that face before.
Not in an old photograph.
In person.
Recently.
At the hospital waiting room.
A little boy had been sitting beside an older woman while I waited for my prenatal appointment.
He had looked at my stomach and smiled.
I'd smiled back.
I remembered the birthmark.
I remembered the older woman's voice.
“He's my grandson.””
My breathing stopped.
“Who is he?””
Marissa looked at me.
“The boy's name is Ethan.””
Mark took the photograph.
“Ethan what?””
Marissa answered softly.
“Ethan Mercer.””
Chloe made a broken sound.
“Mercer?””
Marissa nodded.
“But that's impossible.””
“Why?””
“Because David told me his first wife couldn't have children.””
Marissa looked at her.
“He told you that because the child wasn't supposed to exist.””
Chloe began shaking.
Mark stared at me.
“Lauren…”
I couldn't speak.
Marissa leaned toward the table.
“There is one more thing you need to know before you go to the clinic.””
“What?””
She looked directly at me.
“The embryo inside you may not be Mark's.””
My entire body went cold.
Mark stared at her.
“Then whose is it?””
Marissa's answer came quietly.
“We won't know until they recover the original genetic records.””
She looked at the clock.
“Because whoever altered the files has already started deleting the final evidence.””
Mark reached for his phone.
A message appeared on the screen.
One new voicemail.
From the clinic.
He pressed play.
A man's frightened voice whispered:
“Mr. Hayes, don't come here. Somebody is inside the lab right now.””
There was a crash in the background.
May you like
Then the man said three words before the recording ended.
“They found me.””
