Chapter 9: The Pregnancy That Was Never Mine
For a moment, I couldn't understand what I was reading.
My name.
My date of birth.
My old medical identification number.
All of it appeared on the transfer request.
I looked at Emily.
"Someone tried to use the third embryo in my name?""
She nodded.
"Three weeks ago.""
Daniel turned toward his mother.
"Mom, what have you done now?""
Patricia shook her head.
"I didn't authorize anything.""
Emily enlarged the document.
"The request was submitted through an online patient portal. The account was created using Sarah's former identification details.""
I stepped backward.
"Can you stop it?""
"The request has been flagged. No transfer can proceed without proper medical verification.""
James moved closer.
"Sarah, we're leaving.""
I nodded.
But Patricia suddenly rushed forward.
"Wait!""
James placed himself between us.
"Don't come any closer.""
Patricia ignored him.
"Sarah, you have to understand. I was trying to give Daniel another chance.""
I stared at her.
"By transferring an embryo into my body without my permission?""
She shook her head.
"Not exactly.""
"What does that mean?""
Patricia looked toward Daniel.
He seemed as confused as everyone else.
Emily opened another page.
"Mrs. Mitchell, the request specifically states that Sarah agreed to act as the gestational carrier.""
Vanessa covered her mouth.
I felt my blood run cold.
A gestational carrier.
They hadn't simply tried to use my genetic material.
Someone had attempted to arrange a pregnancy using my identity.
I looked at Patricia.
"Why would you think I would ever agree to carry another embryo for your family?""
She began speaking quickly.
"Daniel wanted another chance to become a father. You were already familiar with the treatment process. I thought perhaps you would consider helping.""
I stared at her.
"You invited me here to humiliate me, then secretly tried to make me carry a baby for your son?""
Patricia lowered her voice.
"I knew you wouldn't agree if I asked directly.""
James stepped forward.
"That's enough.""
He took my hand.
"We're leaving now.""
But Vanessa wasn't finished.
She looked at Patricia with an expression I couldn't describe.
"You tried to make Sarah pregnant with an embryo that might have come from Daniel's father?""
Patricia's silence answered her.
Vanessa shook her head.
"How could you do that?""
"I was protecting my family!""
"No. You were trying to control everybody in it.""
Daniel suddenly grabbed the document from Emily.
"Where did this request come from?""
Emily pointed to the authorization section.
"An IP address associated with the Mitchell family residence.""
Daniel looked at his mother.
"Did you submit this from home?""
Patricia said nothing.
"Mom!""
She finally whispered.
"I thought if Sarah became pregnant, you could have another child without involving Vanessa.""
Vanessa let out a stunned laugh.
"You wanted to replace me?""
"No!""
"You wanted to use my pregnancy as a backup plan?""
Patricia reached for her.
Vanessa stepped away.
"Don't touch me.""
Daniel looked as though the floor had disappeared beneath him.
For the first time, he seemed to understand that his mother had crossed a line even he hadn't imagined.
Emily gathered the documents.
"I've already forwarded the suspicious authorization to the clinic's compliance team. They will preserve the records and contact the appropriate authorities.""
Patricia's face tightened.
"You wouldn't dare.""
Emily looked at her.
"I already did.""
I turned toward the exit.
James held the door open while Ethan and Noah ran ahead, laughing about their stuffed bears.
Just before I stepped outside, Daniel called my name.
"Sarah.""
I stopped.
He stood near the fireplace, looking smaller than I remembered.
"Can we talk? Just once. Without everybody listening?""
I looked at him.
"We've talked enough for one lifetime.""
"I know I hurt you.""
I waited.
He swallowed.
"I was wrong about everything.""
I shook my head.
"No, Daniel. You weren't wrong about everything. You made choices.
You lied. You blamed me. And when you had the opportunity to tell the truth, you chose another lie.""
He looked down.
"Is there any chance you could forgive me?""
I glanced at my sons.
Ethan was showing James the little bear. Noah was trying to put his own bear inside his jacket pocket.
Their laughter filled the driveway.
"I've already forgiven myself for believing you," I said.
"That's enough.""
Then I walked away.
That evening, James tucked the boys into bed while I sat at our kitchen island, reviewing the messages Emily had sent.
There were copies of the clinic's investigation, the original embryo storage agreement, and a document identifying everyone who had accessed my old patient account.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Patricia Mitchell.
But there was something else.
A bank transfer.
A payment of $75,000 had been made from Patricia's personal account to an employee at the original fertility clinic shortly before the first embryo transfer.
I zoomed in on the date.
It was four months before Daniel married Vanessa.
My phone rang.
Emily.
"Sarah, I found something in the financial records.""
I sat straighter.
"What?""
"The payment wasn't made to the clinic. It went to a private account belonging to someone who worked in the embryology department.""
"Why?""
Emily took a breath.
"Because Patricia wasn't just trying to help Daniel become a father. She was paying someone to change the genetic records.""
My stomach tightened.
"Change them to what?""
"That's what I'm trying to establish. But there's a problem.""
"What problem?""
"The laboratory's original DNA comparison shows that the specimen listed under Michael Reeves's name may not have belonged to Michael at all.""
I stood.
"Then whose specimen was it?""
Emily's answer came slowly.
"Sarah, I think someone deliberately switched the samples before the embryos were created.""
Before I could respond, another message appeared.
It was from Rebecca.
I've found the original technician. He's willing to speak. But he says the person who ordered the switch wasn't Patricia.
A second message arrived.
It was Daniel.
I stared at the screen.
Then I heard James walking down the hallway.
"Everything okay, sweetheart?""
I couldn't speak.
Because the man who had spent seven years blaming me for our infertility might have been responsible for something far more calculated than either of us had imagined.
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And this time, his mother might not have been the mastermind.
She might have been helping him hide it.
