I forwarded the photograph to Dana before doing anything else.
Then I sent her the billing code Jessica had given me.
Her response came almost immediately.
Do not contact Richard. I am calling counsel in his state and law enforcement if needed.
Law enforcement.
The phrase looked excessive until I remembered that Richard had apparently found a frightened pregnant woman who was actively avoiding him.
I called Jessica again.
Voicemail.
Carter called while I was trying.
I answered.
“Did you send your father after her?”
“What?”
“Jessica.”
“No.”
“He found her.”
Silence.
“How do you know?”
“She sent me a photograph.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Send it to me.”
“No.”
“Lauren.”
“Call your father.”
“I have been.”
“And?”
“He isn't answering.”
That frightened him.
I heard it.
“What was their relationship?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Richard and Jessica.”
“My dad barely tolerated her.”
“That isn't what she says.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Enough.”
“Lauren, don't trust her.”
“I don't.”
That stopped him.
“I don't trust you either.”
He exhaled.
“Fair.”
It was the first time Carter had accepted criticism without defending himself.
That worried me more than anger would have.
“What did my father do?” he asked.
“I don't know yet.”
“Tell me what she said.”
“She said Richard met with her before the transfer.”
Carter went silent.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Did you know he paid more than storage fees?”
“What do you mean?”
“There are other charges.”
“What charges?”
“I don't know.”
“What dates?”
“Beginning after Emma was born.”
I heard him move.
“Lauren, send me the code.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I give a Sterling information, somebody starts cleaning up.”
“That isn't fair.”
“Fair stopped being relevant.”
“I'm trying to help now.”
“You had years.”
That silenced him again.
I continued.
“Why did your father want that embryo so badly?”
“You know why.”
“The trust?”
“Yes.”
“That's not enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“Millions explain greed. They don't explain years of secrecy before anyone knew whether you'd leave me.”
Carter said nothing.
“Why tell me the embryos were destroyed instead of simply asking me to keep them stored?”
“You would have said no.”
“Maybe.”
“You told me you were done.”
“I was.”
“So Dad thought—”
“Your father thought he had authority over my genetic material?”
“No.”
“Then finish the sentence.”
Carter didn't.
I ended the call.
At 12:41, Dana called.
“I identified the billing code.”
Rachel and I were both in the kitchen now.
“What is it?”
“It's an abbreviated internal laboratory code.”
“For?”
“Genetic screening.”
My throat tightened.
“What type?”
“Potentially several types. The code is old.”
“Can you narrow it down?”
“We're working on it.”
“Was it testing the embryos?”
“It appears connected to the embryo storage account.”
“After Emma was born.”
“Yes.”
Rachel crossed her arms.
“Why would they screen embryos they supposedly planned to destroy?”
Dana heard her.
“That's one of the questions.”
I thought about what Richard valued.
Male lineage.
Inheritance.
Blood.
“What kind of genetic screening determines inheritance eligibility?”
Dana was quiet.
“Lauren.”
“It's a question.”
“Trusts don't generally require laboratory testing.”
“Generally.”
“I need evidence before we go further.”
Of course.
Dana lived inside evidence.
I was beginning to understand why.
Evidence was the only solid thing left.
At 1:03, Jessica called again.
I answered before the first full ring.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
Her voice was shaky.
“Where is Richard?”
“Gone.”
“What happened?”
“He found me at a motel.”
“How?”
“I used a Sterling corporate card.”
I closed my eyes.
“Jessica.”
“I wasn't thinking.”
“No, you weren't.”
“I know.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
“Then what did he want?”
“The folder.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“No.”
“Where are you now?”
“Somewhere else.”
“Stop using cards.”
“I know that now.”
“Did you contact Dana?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Jessica breathed slowly.
“Richard told me something.”
“What?”
“He says the baby cannot inherit the trust.”
That surprised me.
“What?”
“He said everything has changed.”
“Because the transfer is being investigated?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“He wouldn't say at first.”
I pulled the envelope with the billing code closer.
“Jessica.”
“I recorded him.”
Rachel looked up sharply.
“You what?”
“I started recording before he came into the room.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Send it to Dana immediately.”
“I did.”
“Then tell me what he said.”
“He kept asking who I'd spoken to.”
“About the embryo?”
“About everything.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I called you.”
I muttered something under my breath.
“I had to.”
“You didn't have to tell Richard.”
“He already knew somehow.”
That disturbed me.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“Continue.”
“He told me this could be fixed if I stopped talking.”
“Fixed how?”
“He said the clinic would take responsibility.”
“For forged consent?”
“He said records could be clarified.”
“That sounds like records could disappear.”
“I thought that too.”
“What else?”
“He asked for the blue folder.”
“You refused.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“He said I didn't understand what was at stake.”
A familiar line.
Men like Richard always assumed other people misunderstood stakes when what they really meant was obedience.
“What was at stake?”
“He said Carter could lose everything.”
“The trust?”
“More than that.”
“What?”
“Control of the company.”
I sat straighter.
“Why?”
“He didn't explain.”
“Did he mention the testing?”
Silence.
“Jessica?”
“Yes.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“What did he say?”
“I asked him about the old laboratory charges.”
“And?”
“He got angry.”
“Exactly what did he say?”
“He asked where I found them.”
“What did you tell him?”
“In archived billing.”
“And then?”
“He said those tests were none of my concern.”
“What tests?”
“He wouldn't say.”
“Did you ask whether they were genetic?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He said, ‘Everything involving the embryos was genetic.’”
Rachel and I exchanged a look.
“What did he mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes.”
“He told me to forget I saw the charges.”
I wrote down every word.
“Then why did he say the baby couldn't inherit?”
“Because I told him I wasn't giving him the folder unless he told me why he was panicking.”
“And?”
“He said the trust language is more complicated than Carter knows.”
Of course it was.
“What language?”
“He said the beneficiary must be a legitimate male descendant.”
I frowned.
“The baby is biologically Carter's.”
“I said that.”
“What did Richard say?”
Jessica's voice lowered.
“He said biology isn't the only requirement.”
My stomach tightened.
“What else?”
“He said legitimacy depends on lawful parentage.”
The forged consent.
The unauthorized embryo transfer.
A child conceived through a potentially illegal process.
“Richard thinks the transfer could jeopardize inheritance.”
“Yes.”
That explained some of his panic.
Not all.
“Then why keep the embryo secretly for years?”
“I asked him.”
My fingers tightened around the pen.
“What did he say?”
“He said Carter had failed to understand his obligations.”
“That sounds like Richard.”
“Then I asked why he paid for genetic testing.”
“And?”
Jessica hesitated so long I thought the call had dropped.
“Jessica.”
“He said he needed to know what he was preserving.”
A chill moved through me.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
“What exactly did he test?”
“He didn't say.”
I stood.
“Send me the recording.”
“I can't. Dana told me to send everything only to her.”
“Good. Listen to Dana.”
That answer seemed to surprise her.
“You're not angry?”
“I am angry.”
“At me.”
“Yes.”
She was quiet.
“But anger doesn't make evidence less important.”
Another silence.
Then she whispered, “I'm sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
Not because I accepted it.
Because I believed she meant it.
Those were different things.
“You'll have to live with what you did,” I said. “So will I.”
“I know.”
“Keep the baby safe.”
“I will.”
“And stop telling anyone where you are.”
“I will.”
After we ended the call, I checked on the girls.
Chloe was asleep on her side.
Emma had kicked off her blanket.
I covered her.
In the dim room, their faces looked younger.
My daughters had begun as embryos in the same laboratory.
Someone had tested those embryos after Emma was born.
Not all embryos necessarily.
Perhaps only the male one.
Why?
I returned downstairs.
Dana had sent a message asking whether I was awake.
I called.
“I've heard the recording.”
“And?”
“Jessica's account is accurate.”
“Can you identify the genetic test?”
“Not yet.”
“What else did Richard say?”
“Enough to support preservation orders.”
“That isn't what I'm asking.”
“I know.”
“Dana.”
“He made several statements suggesting he knew the transfer occurred without your direct participation.”
I sat.
“So he knew I hadn't consented.”
“He did not explicitly say that.”
“But?”
“But that's a reasonable interpretation.”
“And the trust?”
“He appears primarily concerned that litigation could make the child ineligible.”
“Primarily?”
Dana paused.
“There was another comment.”
“What?”
“When Jessica asked why he had paid for testing, Richard said he had ‘already made one mistake trusting appearances.’”
I frowned.
“What appearances?”
“He didn't explain.”
A thought formed.
Then another.
Neither made sense.
“Was he talking about Carter?”
“I don't know.”
“About the embryos?”
“Possibly.”
“What mistake?”
“We need the laboratory records.”
“How soon?”
“We're seeking them now.”
I looked at the time.
1:47 a.m.
“Dana, was the genetic testing ordered under my name?”
“That's another complication.”
“Meaning?”
“The billing account is linked to your embryo storage file.”
“But?”
“The ordering physician is not the doctor who treated us.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who is it?”
“Dr. Leonard Vale.”
I searched my memory.
Nothing.
“I don't know him.”
“I didn't expect you to.”
“Why?”
“He wasn't an Oakfield reproductive specialist.”
“What was he?”
Dana paused.
“A geneticist.”
The word felt heavier than it should have.
“What kind?”
“Hereditary disease and kinship analysis.”
I stopped breathing.
“Kinship.”
“Yes.”
“Like paternity?”
“Potentially.”
Rachel stared at me.
“Why would Richard pay to test the embryos for paternity?”
Dana's answer was cautious.
“We don't yet know that he did.”
“But that specialty matters.”
“Yes.”
A memory surfaced so abruptly that I gripped the edge of the table.
Emma's birth.
Richard standing outside my hospital room.
Not holding his granddaughter.
Arguing quietly with Carter.
I had been exhausted and medicated.
I remembered only fragments.
Richard's voice.
Carter saying, “She's mine.”
Richard replying, “That's not what I'm asking.”
At the time I thought they were arguing about something else.
Now the memory returned with terrible clarity.
I whispered, “Dana.”
“What?”
“I think Richard doubted something after Emma was born.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
But Carter might.
And for the first time that night, I understood that the hidden tests might not have been about the male embryo at all.
They might have been about us.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: Carter Finally Admitted What His Father Suspected After Emma’s Birth, and the Secret Explained Years of Quiet Cruelty Toward Both Girls
Five Minutes After the Judge Ended Our Marriage, Carter Told Me Exactly What Our Daughters Were Worth to Him
Part 6 of 35
