Chapter 12 - The DNA Results
Our daughter was born twelve minutes later.
Seven pounds, one ounce.
Healthy.
Screaming.
Perfect.
When the nurse placed her on my chest, the entire nightmare disappeared for several seconds.
“Hi,” I whispered.
Daniel cried beside me.
“She's here.”
We named her Grace Eleanor Mercer.
Grace for what we needed.
Eleanor for the mother whose secrets had hurt me but whose courage had saved Lily.
Police guarded the maternity floor.
The fake nurse was arrested.
She identified Hargrove.
Within hours, warrants expanded.
Records were seized.
Project Haven finally began collapsing.
But one question remained.
Emily's baby.
DNA testing confirmed what the transfer records suggested.
The fetus she carried had come from one of our embryos.
Biologically, the child was mine and Daniel's.
Legally and emotionally, nothing was simple.
Emily sat beside my hospital bed when we received the results.
“I'll give her to you,” she said.
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She's your daughter.”
“You've carried her for months.”
“Because someone lied to me.”
“So were we.”
Emily cried.
“So what do we do?”
I looked at Grace sleeping against my chest.
“I don't know.”
For once, those words were allowed.
We didn't need an immediate answer.
Lawyers became involved.
Counselors.
Medical ethicists.
But underneath every legal question was a human one.
Emily loved the baby she carried.
I loved her too, though I had never felt her kick.
Daniel was shattered.
We agreed on one thing.
Nobody would turn that child into property again.
Then police called.
Hargrove had been found.
He had driven to my parents' old cabin.
Dad knew why.
My mother's original samples were hidden there.
Police surrounded the property.
Hargrove surrendered after six hours.
No dramatic gunfight.
No escape.
Just a tired man walking outside with his hands raised.
Sometimes monsters end quietly.
His arrest unlocked everything.
The fake records.
The surveillance.
The stolen embryos.
The intimidation.
Evidence connecting him to Ruth's death.
Evidence suggesting my mother's poisoning.
Not enough yet for every charge.
Enough to keep him from us.
Then another DNA report arrived.
This one concerned Lily.
It confirmed she was my maternal half-sister.
Richard Vale was her biological father.
Margaret requested to meet her.
Lily refused.
At first.
Then she changed her mind.
“I want to ask her one question.”
“What?”
“Whether she hated me.”
Margaret came to our house.
Lily asked.
Margaret cried.
“No.”
“Then why didn't you save me?”
Margaret looked at her.
“Because Eleanor already had. And I was a coward.”
Lily accepted the answer without forgiving it.
I understood.
Forgiveness was no longer something I thought people owed each other.
Daniel and I had the same problem.
He loved me.
He had also lied.
Both things could be true.
One evening, while Grace slept, he handed me an envelope.
Divorce papers.
Signed by him.
“If that's what you want, I won't fight you.”
I stared at them.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
He swallowed.
“I want the chance to become someone you can trust. But I don't get to demand that chance.”
I put the papers away.
Not torn.
Not signed.
Not yet.
Then Emily called.
She was thirty-six weeks pregnant.
Her voice sounded strange.
“Claire, I think something's wrong.”
“What?”
“I haven't felt the baby move.”
We rushed to the hospital.
Doctors took her back immediately.
Daniel held my hand.
For the first time since Grace's birth, I let him.
Then the doctor came through the doors.
His face was serious.
May you like
“We need to deliver the baby now.”
Behind him, alarms began sounding...
