Marianne agreed to Grace's DNA test immediately.
There was no hesitation.
No legal maneuvering.
No attempt to protect herself from what we might discover.
“I want to know,” she said through Dana.
So did I.
The laboratory compared Grace against me first.
Maternal match.
Confirmed.
She came from my egg.
That truth held.
Then the paternal comparison returned.
Adrian excluded.
The result struck me harder than I expected.
For days, I had been adjusting to the idea that Adrian and I had four biological children through a violation neither of us had fully understood.
Now one of those children shifted again.
Grace was mine.
But not Adrian's.
Dana called before sending the full report.
“There is close paternal-line relatedness to the Sterling family.”
“How close?”
“The lab needs Daniel's DNA for definitive comparison.”
“Richard's voicemail.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel.”
“Likely.”
I closed my eyes.
“Does Marianne know?”
“Yes.”
“How is she?”
“Upset.”
“Adrian?”
“Also informed.”
“Carter?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to speak to you first.”
For once, somebody gave me that courtesy.
“Tell him.”
“I will.”
“What does this mean about the embryo?”
“The maternal DNA profile matches the female embryo records we have.”
“So the egg was mine.”
“Yes.”
“But the paternal DNA was Daniel's, not Adrian's.”
“Likely.”
“Then someone altered the embryo before transfer?”
“Not possible after fertilization in the way you're describing.”
I frowned.
“Then it wasn't the same embryo.”
“That is the concern.”
I stood.
“If the female embryo created with Adrian's sperm wasn't transferred to Marianne, where did it go?”
“We don't know.”
“And Grace came from another embryo.”
“Potentially created later from a preserved egg or other maternal genetic material.”
I went cold.
“I never had eggs stored separately.”
“Oakfield's records say you didn't.”
“Records say many things.”
“Yes.”
“Could an unfertilized egg from my retrieval have been preserved without telling me?”
“Technically, yes.”
“Legally?”
“Not without consent.”
I laughed once.
Consent again.
Always the missing ingredient.
“How many eggs were retrieved?”
“Twelve.”
“I remember.”
“How many fertilized?”
“Six according to the file.”
“Four viable embryos.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the other eggs?”
“Two were listed as immature. Four were listed as nonviable after attempted fertilization.”
“Listed.”
“Yes.”
“Could one have been frozen?”
“Potentially.”
I stared at nothing.
Protocol B had been created after Grace was born.
But Richard's contingency thinking could have begun much earlier.
Perhaps he had preserved one of my unfertilized eggs.
Perhaps Daniel's sperm had later been used.
Perhaps Grace was not the original female embryo at all.
“Where is the original female embryo?”
“We have to reconstruct that.”
I felt nauseated.
Even the embryos I thought we had accounted for were no longer certain.
Dana continued.
“There's another possibility.”
“What?”
“The female embryo record itself could have been relabeled.”
“You mean Grace's embryo might always have been Daniel's.”
“Yes.”
“But Dr. Vale's test said both remaining embryos were Adrian's.”
“If those were the samples actually tested.”
I sat.
Richard had controlled labels.
Reports.
Samples.
He had built an information system where almost nothing could be trusted unless independently verified.
“What do we know for certain?”
Dana answered carefully.
“You are Grace's genetic mother.”
“Yes.”
“Grace's paternal DNA is from the Sterling family, likely Daniel's branch.”
“Yes.”
“She carries the same cardiomyopathy variant Carter carries.”
“Yes.”
“Adrian does not.”
“Yes.”
“That supports the possibility that Richard shifted away from Adrian toward another Sterling donor because he was trying to control some genetic trait but did not understand inheritance correctly.”
My skin prickled.
“He may have thought Adrian was safer.”
“Yes.”
“Then Grace showed him his assumptions were wrong.”
“Possibly.”
“So he identified Daniel as the backup.”
“Or Daniel may already have been used.”
I closed my eyes.
That wording mattered.
“Already.”
“Yes.”
“How long before Grace was born could Daniel's sample have been collected?”
“We don't know.”
“Find him.”
“We're trying.”
Daniel Sterling had become strangely difficult to locate.
Public records showed he had sold his house two years earlier.
His former company had dissolved.
No recent social media.
No current voter registration at his old address.
He had not attended Sterling family events in years.
Carter said nobody spoke about him much after his son's death.
When I asked why, Carter said, “He blamed Dad.”
That sentence changed everything.
“For what?”
“I don't know.”
“You never asked?”
“He stopped coming around.”
“Why did he blame Richard?”
“His son was sick.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Carter hesitated.
“I remember an argument.”
“When?”
“After the funeral.”
“What was said?”
“Daniel told Dad he had known.”
My stomach tightened.
“Known what?”
“He didn't say in front of me.”
“Did Richard respond?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“He said knowing risk wasn't the same as causing disease.”
I closed my eyes.
Richard knew Daniel's son was at risk.
Maybe through Vale's secret family testing.
“Did Daniel know Richard had tested him?”
“I don't know.”
“Did Daniel's son carry the same cardiomyopathy variant?”
“We need records.”
“Dana is looking.”
Carter's voice became quieter.
“Lauren, if Grace has Daniel's DNA…”
“Yes.”
“Then Dad used him too.”
“Likely.”
“He used everybody.”
“Yes.”
Carter stopped speaking.
I let the silence sit.
He needed to feel it.
Not abstract guilt.
The full architecture.
His father had manipulated Adrian.
Possibly Daniel.
Me.
Carter.
Marianne.
Jessica.
And every child produced from those decisions.
At 11:30, Dana found Daniel's attorney.
Not Daniel.
His attorney.
That was enough.
“He is alive,” Dana said.
“Good.”
“He is aware people are looking for him.”
“Does he know why?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Richard contacted him yesterday.”
My muscles tightened.
“What did Richard say?”
“We don't know.”
“Did Daniel agree to talk?”
“Through counsel.”
“DNA?”
“He's considering it.”
“Considering?”
“He has reasons to distrust everyone involved.”
“Fair.”
“He did provide one piece of information.”
“What?”
“He says Richard collected semen samples from him twenty-seven years ago.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Daniel had fertility testing when he and his wife were trying to conceive.”
“And Richard had access?”
“Apparently.”
“How?”
“Vale.”
Of course.
“Was Daniel treated by Vale?”
“Referred by him.”
“So Richard may have had both sons' and nephew's genetic material through Vale.”
“Yes.”
“For decades.”
“Yes.”
“What did Daniel think happened to his samples?”
“Destroyed after testing.”
I laughed bitterly.
Everyone had been told things were destroyed.
Embryos.
Samples.
Records.
Nothing ever seemed truly gone when Richard found it useful.
“Did Daniel authorize future reproductive use?”
“No.”
“So Grace was created with stolen genetic material from both sides.”
“If Daniel is confirmed as the father, yes.”
I looked out the window.
Rain again.
Always rain.
Seattle had become the setting for revelations I could not contain.
“What did Richard want from Daniel yesterday?”
“His attorney wouldn't say.”
“Then ask.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“Daniel hasn't authorized disclosure.”
I hated that.
But after everything, I also respected it.
Choice mattered.
Consent mattered even when inconvenient.
Especially then.
That afternoon, Emma's cardiomyopathy variant test came back negative.
Relief hit so hard I had to sit down.
Both girls negative.
Whatever else their biology turned out to be, they did not carry the known variant threatening Grace.
I told Chloe and Emma only that their tests looked good.
Emma celebrated by asking for ice cream.
Chloe studied me.
“Does that mean the complicated thing is over?”
I almost lied.
“No.”
She sighed.
“I knew it.”
“But this part is good.”
She accepted that.
Children sometimes understand partial truth better than adults.
At 3:40, Jessica's fetal echocardiogram results came through her doctor.
No structural abnormalities detected.
But prenatal genetic testing still had to determine whether the baby carried the variant.
Jessica called me afterward.
“He was moving the whole time.”
“The baby?”
“Yes.”
“The technician kept telling him to cooperate.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
“Sounds familiar.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I thought of Chloe refusing to stay still during prenatal scans.
Emma turning away from the probe every time the technician needed her face.
Children had personalities before we met them.
That fact made Richard's laboratory planning feel even more grotesque.
Jessica became quiet.
“Lauren, have you thought about what happens when he's born?”
Every hour.
“I am not answering that today.”
“I don't know what I'm supposed to be.”
“His gestational mother.”
“I mean legally.”
“Lawyers will deal with that.”
“And emotionally?”
I closed my eyes.
“No lawyer can do that.”
“I know.”
She hesitated.
“Do you want him?”
The question made my chest tighten.
“He is not an object anyone gets to want and claim.”
“I didn't mean it that way.”
“I know.”
“Do you think of him as yours?”
I looked toward the girls.
“Yes.”
The word came before analysis.
Genetically, yes.
Emotionally, something had already begun too.
But Jessica had carried him.
She had felt him move.
Whatever wrongdoing led to the pregnancy, she also had a real relationship with that unborn child.
Nothing about this would be simple.
“I think of him as a child whose life started through decisions adults had no right to make,” I said. “What comes after has to be better than that.”
Jessica cried quietly.
“I want that too.”
“Then start there.”
After we ended the call, Dana contacted me.
“Daniel agreed to provide DNA.”
My pulse accelerated.
“When?”
“Sample collected today.”
“How fast?”
“Expedited.”
“And medical records?”
“He authorized limited release relating to cardiomyopathy.”
“What did they show?”
“Daniel carries the variant.”
There it was.
Carter.
Daniel.
Grace.
Same variant.
Adrian negative.
I closed my eyes.
“Then Grace is probably Daniel's.”
“Likely.”
“Why would Richard switch from Adrian to Daniel if Daniel carried the risk?”
“We don't know whether Richard knew Daniel carried it when Grace was created.”
“But Daniel's son had already been sick.”
“Yes.”
“Then he should have known.”
“Unless he thought the boy inherited it from his mother.”
I frowned.
“Vale's assumptions wrong.”
Richard's voicemail.
Grace proved Vale's assumptions wrong.
Maybe Vale had believed Adrian's branch carried the disease.
Maybe Richard selected Daniel because he thought Daniel was safe.
Then Grace developed or tested positive, proving the disease came through Richard's side differently than expected.
A family genetic mystery solved through stolen pregnancies.
My stomach turned.
At 6:12, Daniel's parentage result arrived.
Confirmed.
Grace's biological father was Daniel Sterling.
I called Dana.
“Then the embryo sent to Marianne wasn't the Adrian embryo.”
“Correct.”
“What happened to the original female embryo?”
“We found a destruction entry dated four days before Grace's transfer.”
My heart stopped.
“Destroyed?”
“That's what the entry says.”
“Who authorized it?”
“Richard.”
“He had no authority.”
“I know.”
“Is the entry real?”
“We're verifying.”
“Why destroy Adrian's female embryo and create one with Daniel?”
“We need Vale.”
“Get him.”
“We are close.”
I stood.
“What about the male embryo Jessica carries?”
“Current embryo records indicate Adrian.”
“Indicate.”
“We need direct prenatal or postnatal paternity confirmation.”
“Can testing be done safely now?”
“Noninvasive options may be available through maternal blood, depending on clinical advice.”
“Jessica needs to decide.”
“Yes.”
Consent.
Again.
This time we would actually ask.
At 7:30, Jessica agreed.
Her physician arranged noninvasive paternity testing.
Results would take time.
Before I could process that, Carter called.
“Dad contacted me again.”
“What did he say?”
“He knows Daniel gave DNA.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“What else?”
“He said we're destroying the family over something that was meant to protect it.”
I laughed.
“Record?”
“Yes.”
“Send it.”
“I did.”
Then Carter said, “He wants to meet tomorrow.”
“With lawyers?”
“He said no lawyers.”
“Then no.”
“He says he'll give us Vale's original files.”
That stopped me.
“Original?”
“Yes.”
“What files?”
“He says the truth about the donor selection and Protocol B.”
A trap.
Possibly.
Also the first offer of documents we desperately needed.
“Where?”
“Sterling headquarters.”
“Public enough.”
“Security-controlled by him.”
“Less good.”
“He says you can come.”
Of course.
Richard wanted me there.
Maybe because he believed he could still persuade me that everything he had done was rational.
I surprised myself by wanting to hear him try.
“Dana decides conditions.”
“She already said no.”
“Then no.”
Carter exhaled.
“Lauren.”
“What?”
“If Dad destroys Vale's files—”
“We don't reward extortion.”
Silence.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Another silence.
Then:
“I'm trying.”
I believed that.
It did not erase anything.
But I believed it.
Later that night, Dana called.
“You won't need Richard's copies.”
My heart jumped.
“Why?”
“Vale accepted terms.”
“What terms?”
“Limited cooperation agreement. His attorney is turning over records.”
“When?”
“Electronic copies tonight.”
I stood.
“Everything?”
“Everything relevant.”
At 10:14, Dana called again.
Her voice sounded different.
Flat.
Professional because emotion would make the sentence harder.
“Lauren, Vale kept a complete donor-selection memo.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What does it say?”
“It states Richard requested substitution of Adrian's sample for Carter's during your original IVF cycle.”
“I know that.”
“There is more.”
“What?”
“Vale objected initially.”
“Then why did he do it?”
“Richard provided what Vale believed were signed consents from both you and Carter.”
My stomach dropped.
“Forged.”
“Likely.”
“Who forged them?”
“Vale's notes say documents delivered by R.H.S.”
Richard.
Of course.
“What about Protocol B?”
“Vale wrote that Richard wanted a secondary donor because he believed a hereditary cardiac trait might be linked to Evelyn Mercer's family.”
“So he thought Adrian was risky.”
“Yes.”
“Then why use Adrian first?”
“At the time, testing suggested Adrian did not carry the suspected markers.”
“Which was correct.”
“Yes.”
“But they didn't know the actual variant.”
“Exactly.”
“And later Daniel's son got sick.”
“Yes.”
“So Richard shifted to Daniel.”
“Believing Daniel represented a safer branch.”
“Yes.”
“Wrong.”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why create Grace?”
“To test Daniel's branch.”
There it was.
Direct.
Documented.
“He used my egg.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Dana paused.
“Vale's notes say Richard had arranged cryopreservation of two unfertilized mature oocytes from your original retrieval.”
The room disappeared.
Two eggs.
Mine.
Frozen without my knowledge.
“Two?”
“Yes.”
“Where is the second?”
Another pause.
“According to Vale, one was used to create the embryo that became Grace.”
“And the other?”
Silence.
“Dana.”
“It was transferred out of Oakfield eighteen months ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“Where?”
“We're tracing it.”
“Fertilized?”
“Vale's note suggests yes.”
“With whose sperm?”
“Unknown in the summary.”
I could barely breathe.
“Is there another child?”
“We don't know.”
“Pregnancy?”
“We don't know.”
“Recipient?”
“Not yet.”
Protocol B had not stopped with Grace.
Richard had preserved another maternal source.
Another piece of me.
And eighteen months ago—long before Jessica's current pregnancy—he had used it.
Click here to continue reading: PART 16: The Last Hidden Egg Led to a Second Pregnancy Nobody Had Mentioned, and Its Recipient Was Someone Lauren Already Knew
Five Minutes After the Judge Ended Our Marriage, Carter Told Me Exactly What Our Daughters Were Worth to Him
Part 15 of 35
