Chapter 7: The Secret Eleanor Left Behind
“They know Eleanor's frozen embryos weren't the only thing the clinic kept secret.””
Daniel's words followed me up the stairs.
For a moment, I couldn't move. Emily stood beside me, her fingers wrapped around mine, while Robert demanded that his son explain himself.
Then Patricia spoke.
“Daniel, you promised me you would never tell anyone.””
I turned around.
“What did Eleanor leave behind?””
Patricia's eyes darted toward the front door.
“Nothing that concerns you.””
“I'm carrying her embryo, apparently. You used my body to preserve your daughter's legacy without telling me the truth. I think it concerns me.””
“Sarah,” Daniel pleaded, “please don't make this worse.””
I laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“You keep saying that as if the truth is something I'm doing to you.””
Emily stepped forward.
“Tell her what you know, Daniel. Right now.””
He looked at his father, then at Patricia.
Finally, he sat down and pressed his palms against his knees.
“Before Eleanor died, she was involved in a private fertility research program. She had been diagnosed with a condition that made it difficult for her to conceive naturally. She wanted children desperately, so she agreed to preserve her eggs and participate in a study.””
“What kind of study?”” Emily asked.
“I don't know all the details.””
Patricia shook her head.
“You know more than you're admitting.””
Daniel glared at her.
“Not now, Mom.””
I moved down one step.
“Keep talking.””
He swallowed.
“After Eleanor died, the clinic contacted Mom about the stored materials. They said there were additional records that needed to be reviewed. Some of the embryos had been created using donor material, and the paperwork wasn't as straightforward as everyone thought.””
I stared at him.
“Did you know that before my transfer?””
“Yes.””
“And you still went ahead?””
He lowered his head.
“I thought the clinic had resolved the legal issues.””
“Did you ask me to review the records?””
“No.””
“Did you tell me there might be a problem with the embryo's origin?””
“No.””
Each answer felt like another door slamming shut.
Emily pulled out her phone.
“What's the name of the research program?””
Daniel hesitated.
“Project Aurora.””
Patricia immediately stood.
“Don't write that down.””
Emily looked up.
“Why not?””
“Because you have no idea what you're getting involved in.””
“Then explain it.””
Patricia clutched her handbag.
“I can't.””
I stepped toward her.
“Can't, or won't?””
Her lips trembled.
“Eleanor believed the clinic was helping women who couldn't have children. She thought the research would give families like ours another chance.””
“Families like ours?”” I repeated.
“She wanted her genetic material to be used for something meaningful.””
“Then why hide it?””
Patricia looked at the floor.
Because she had no answer that could make her actions acceptable.
My phone vibrated.
An email had arrived from Rebecca Shaw. Attached were several scanned pages, including a document labeled Project Aurora—Participant and Material Authorization Register.
I opened it.
The first page contained a list of names and identification codes. Some were marked as donors. Others were marked as recipients.
Then I saw my name.
Beside it was a reference number linked to the embryo transfer.
A second line listed Eleanor Carter.
A third line contained a designation I didn't understand: *Disputed Biological Material—Restricted Review.*
I read the phrase aloud.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What does that mean?”” I demanded.
He rubbed his forehead.
“It means the clinic couldn't fully verify the origin of one component used in the embryo's creation.””
The room seemed to shrink around me.
“Couldn't verify?””
“The records were incomplete.””
“Then how did they transfer it into me?””
He didn't answer.
Robert rose from his chair.
“Daniel, did you know this before the procedure?””
“Yes.””
His father stared at him in disbelief.
“And you let Sarah proceed without telling her?””
Daniel's voice cracked.
“I thought everything would be fine.””
Robert shook his head.
“You gambled with her life because you wanted a child and couldn't bear to face the truth.””
Daniel looked at me.
“I wanted our baby.””
“You wanted the outcome,” I replied.
“You didn't care whether I had the information necessary to choose it.””
Patricia suddenly began crying.
“Eleanor would never have wanted this.””
I turned toward her.
“Then stop using her name to excuse what you've done.””
For the first time, Patricia had nothing to say.
I forwarded the email and its attachments to Rebecca, then asked her to arrange an urgent consultation with an independent reproductive-law specialist.
I also called my obstetrician's office. I explained that I had discovered possible irregularities in the records associated with my IVF treatment and asked for an appointment to review my medical history.
The nurse's voice remained calm, but she asked me to come in as soon as possible.
That small act—making an appointment, asking for records, taking control of my own medical care—felt like the first breath I'd taken all afternoon.
Then my phone rang again.
The anonymous number.
I answered.
A man's voice spoke quietly.
“Mrs. Carter, you need to stop asking questions about Project Aurora.””
“Who are you?””
“Someone who knows what happened to Eleanor.””
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Tell me.””
“Your husband has already lost control of the situation. If you continue, you could lose far more than a house.””
“Are you threatening me?””
“I'm warning you. The clinic isn't the only place with records.””
The line went dead.
Emily immediately asked, “Who was that?””
I told her.
Robert reached for his phone.
“I'm calling the police.””
“Wait,” Daniel said.
All three of us turned toward him.
He looked terrified.
“If the company learns that Sarah is talking to the authorities, they'll destroy the remaining records.””
“Why would they?”” Emily asked.
Daniel swallowed.
“Because the original files don't just show what happened to Eleanor's embryos.””
He looked at me.
“They show that someone inside the clinic changed the records after the transfer.””
I gripped the staircase railing.
“Who?””
Daniel's eyes filled with tears.
“I don't know who changed them.””
He paused.
“But I know whose authorization was used.””
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded copy of a form.
At the bottom was a signature.
Not mine.
Not Daniel's.
And not Patricia's.
It belonged to the doctor who had overseen my IVF treatment.
Dr. Michael Bennett.
My trusted fertility specialist.
The man who had held my hand after our second failed attempt and promised we would find another way.
I stared at his signature.
Then Emily noticed a handwritten note in the margin.
She leaned closer and read it aloud.
“Do not disclose the second transfer until the family agreement is finalized.”
I looked up sharply.
“Second transfer?””
May you like
Daniel's face turned white.
And from somewhere downstairs, Patricia whispered, “Oh, God. She wasn't supposed to find out about the first baby.””
