Chapter 3
I had imagined many things when I married Christopher.
Growing old together.
Watching our sons get married.
Holding grandchildren.
I had never imagined hiding inside a hospital room while the doctor who once operated on me demanded possession of a newborn baby.
Dr. Miller moved toward the door.
"Nobody opens it," I whispered.
Christopher looked at me.
"Rebecca—"
"Don't."
One word.
That was all I could give him.
From the hallway, Victor Lang spoke again.
"Dr. Miller, I know you're in there."
His voice was smooth.
Confident.
Almost pleasant.
"I would prefer to settle this privately."
Dr. Miller stepped closer to the door.
"Dr. Lang, you need to leave."
"I'm here on behalf of the child's legal guardians."
Leah began shaking.
"He's lying."
I put my hand on her shoulder.
"Who are her legal guardians?"
"Me," she whispered. "I'm her mother."
I looked at Dr. Miller.
"Then why is he here?"
"That's what we need to establish."
Dr. Miller called the hospital's security supervisor.
He also asked a nurse to contact the hospital social worker and police.
Victor remained outside.
I could hear him making calls.
At one point, he laughed.
The sound made my skin crawl.
Leah whispered, "He always laughs when he thinks he's winning."
I sat beside her.
"Tell me everything."
She looked down at Daisy.
"I wanted to be a nurse."
Her voice was barely audible.
"My mother died when I was nineteen. I worked at a diner to pay for school."
Then her younger brother developed a serious heart condition.
Bills piled up.
She took extra shifts.
Sold her car.
Dropped out of nursing school.
Nothing was enough.
"Then I saw an advertisement for a surrogacy program."
She swallowed.
"They offered me eighty thousand dollars."
I listened without interrupting.
"They said the intended mother couldn't carry a pregnancy. I would be helping a family."
"Did you ever meet them?"
"No. They told me the parents wanted privacy."
She looked up.
"I asked for photographs. They gave me a picture of a smiling couple."
"Did you keep it?"
She nodded.
"At my apartment."
Christopher suddenly spoke.
"Leah, did they tell you the embryos were donated?"
"Yes."
He closed his eyes.
She stared at him.
"You knew?"
Christopher shook his head.
"Not until recently."
Leah's face hardened.
"They said the woman who provided the egg had given full consent."
I looked at my husband.
"Except she hadn't."
He couldn't answer.
Leah continued.
Everything had seemed normal until her seventh month.
Then the agency stopped returning her calls.
Her promised payments disappeared.
A different doctor began attending her appointments.
And Victor Lang started visiting her personally.
"He asked whether I had family nearby," Leah said.
"Why?"
"I don't know. But when I told him I lived alone, he smiled."
A chill moved through me.
Two weeks before Daisy's birth, Leah overheard a conversation outside an examination room.
Victor was talking to another man.
She heard the words "private transfer."
Then a number.
Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
"I thought they were talking about medical fees."
Her voice cracked.
"Until the man asked whether the baby would be available immediately after delivery."
I covered my mouth.
Leah began crying.
"I confronted Victor. He told me I was being emotional."
"What happened next?"
"He said I'd signed away my rights."
"Had you?"
"I signed a surrogacy agreement. But I never agreed to give my baby to some unknown person."
She looked at Daisy.
"I didn't even know the people in the photographs weren't real."
That was when she contacted a legal aid clinic.
A lawyer told her the arrangements were suspicious and promised to investigate.
But before the lawyer could obtain the records, Leah went into labor.
"Victor called me at the hospital," she whispered.
"He said everything was arranged."
I felt sick.
"He knew where you were?"
"He knew everything."
Christopher spoke suddenly.
"That's why I came."
I turned toward him.
"What?"
He looked at Leah.
"When you called me, you said Daisy was in danger."
Leah nodded.
I stared between them.
"You two knew each other before tonight?"
Neither answered immediately.
My hands began trembling.
"Christopher?"
He exhaled.
"I met Leah three weeks ago."
I felt something inside me collapse.
"Three weeks?"
"I was trying to find out whether the embryo records were real. Someone connected me with her lawyer."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I was afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of what this would do to you."
I laughed bitterly.
"You thought hiding my biological child would protect me?"
"I didn't know Daisy was biologically yours until the records came through."
"But you suspected."
He nodded.
I stood.
For a moment, I wanted to scream.
Instead, I walked to the window.
Twenty-eight years.
Twenty-eight years of marriage.
I had believed we told each other everything important.
Now I didn't know what was real.
Behind me, Leah began speaking again.
"When I went into labor, Victor had already arranged for someone to take Daisy."
"Who?" I asked.
"I never saw the person."
She looked at Christopher.
"I called him because he'd promised to help if anything went wrong."
Christopher lowered his head.
"I asked the emergency placement coordinator to keep Daisy safe."
Dr. Miller turned toward him.
"Except no authorized placement was approved."
Christopher's expression changed.
"What?"
"The documents you signed were not issued by our social work department."
I stared at him.
He whispered, "That's impossible."
Dr. Miller shook his head.
"Someone used stolen hospital credentials."
Suddenly, I understood.
Daisy hadn't simply been released too quickly.
Someone had manipulated the system.
And Christopher had unknowingly carried her out.
I turned toward Leah.
"Why did you think he'd keep you safe?"
She hesitated.
"Because he showed me something."
"What?"
"A photograph."
Christopher's face changed.
Leah continued.
"It was a photograph of a woman holding three little boys."
My breath caught.
"Me?"
Leah nodded.
"He told me that woman had spent years wanting a daughter."
My eyes filled.
She looked at Daisy.
"And that if anything happened to me, he trusted her to protect my baby."
For the first time since entering the room, I looked at Christopher without anger.
Only confusion.
Why would he choose me?
Why would he risk everything?
Before I could ask, Dr. Miller's phone rang.
He answered.
His face tightened.
"Are you certain?"
He listened.
Then he turned toward us.
"The hospital's legal department just contacted the police."
I stepped forward.
"What happened?"
"Dr. Lang's medical license was suspended eighteen months ago."
Leah covered her mouth.
Dr. Miller continued.
"And the Westbridge laboratory was shut down after investigators discovered missing reproductive records."
I stared at Christopher.
"Missing records?"
He nodded slowly.
Dr. Miller looked directly at me.
"Mrs. Hayes, your name appears on a list of patients whose biological material may have been taken without permission."
My knees weakened.
"How many patients?"
He hesitated.
"At least forty."
Forty women.
Forty families.
Possibly forty stolen futures.
From outside, we heard shouting.
Then hurried footsteps.
A security officer opened the door.
"Dr. Miller, the man who was here just left."
"Did anyone follow him?"
"Yes."
The officer paused.
"But there's a problem."
My heart raced.
"What problem?"
The officer looked at Leah.
"Dr. Lang wasn't alone."
Leah went pale.
"Who was with him?"
The officer held up a photograph taken from the hospital's entrance camera.
I leaned forward.
And nearly stopped breathing.
The woman beside Victor Lang was my husband's sister.
My sister-in-law.
May you like
Patricia.
The same woman who had once told me I was selfish for wanting another child.
