Chapter 7 - The Signature That Shouldn’t Exist
Daniel's father had not been an accountant.
That was what Daniel had told me.
What his family had told everyone.
In reality, Dr. Michael Mercer had been a molecular pathologist.
He worked with Richard Vale.
He also knew Adrian Cole.
Daniel claimed he learned the truth only after his father died.
“Then how were you chosen?”
“I wasn't.”
“My mother's journal says otherwise.”
“Someone wanted you to believe that.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
I was tired of those words.
We left Margaret's estate before dark.
Lily came with us.
For the first hour, neither of us knew how to behave.
Sisters.
The word felt enormous.
She sat beside me in the back seat.
Finally she said, “Did Mom like chocolate?”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Dark chocolate. Sea salt.”
Lily smiled.
“Me too.”
That tiny similarity hurt more than the secrets.
We went to Union Station.
Locker 314 was not a luggage locker.
The key opened a private safe-deposit service across the street.
Inside the box was a sealed medical file and a recorded message.
My mother's voice filled the private room.
“Claire, if you're hearing this, then Lily has been found.”
I gripped Lily's hand.
Mom explained that she had spent years collecting proof.
Then came the sentence I feared.
“Daniel Mercer is not responsible for what his father did.”
I looked at Daniel.
Relief flashed across his face.
It lasted seconds.
“But Daniel discovered the truth before he married you.”
I released Lily's hand.
Daniel whispered my name.
Mom continued.
“He promised me he would stay away from you.”
I turned.
“You knew my mother?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After we'd been dating four months.”
“And she told you to leave me?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Because I loved you.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
Again.
At least the truth was becoming faster.
My mother said she eventually accepted Daniel's presence because she believed he was trying to undo his father's work.
Then she mentioned a file.
Project Haven.
Daniel opened it.
Inside were consent forms.
Blood results.
Payments.
And a fertility clinic agreement.
My fertility clinic.
My name.
My signature.
I stared at it.
“I never signed this.”
Daniel read the document.
His expression darkened.
The form authorized “retention of genetic material for advanced screening.”
My forged signature appeared at the bottom.
Beside it was a physician's signature.
Dr. Samuel Hargrove.
My fertility specialist.
The doctor who had helped us conceive.
I remembered his kindness.
His reassurance.
His congratulations.
Daniel immediately called the clinic.
Hargrove was unavailable.
Then the receptionist said something strange.
“Dr. Hargrove hasn't worked here in eight months.”
“What?”
My appointments had been with Dr. Patel for months.
I hadn't noticed.
Pregnancy had changed schedules.
Doctors rotated.
I had never questioned it.
We searched Hargrove online.
His professional page had vanished.
His house had been sold.
His license inactive.
Lily looked at the consent form.
“What did they keep?”
My blood ran cold.
“Our embryos.”
Daniel called the clinic again.
This time he asked specifically about storage.
The answer silenced the room.
Our remaining embryos had been transferred.
Without our authorization.
“To where?” I asked.
The administrator refused to say without legal verification.
Daniel called our attorney.
I looked again at the forged document.
One line at the bottom contained a transfer code.
H17-MERCER.
Lily saw it too.
“Seventeen.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
A laboratory freezer.
Rows of labeled containers.
Then another image.
A woman lying in a hospital bed.
Pregnant.
I zoomed in.
Emily.
The blonde woman from my closet.
A message followed.
ASK EMILY WHAT SHE'S CARRYING.
I turned toward Daniel.
“Call her.”
He did.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Lily whispered, “Maybe she's in trouble.”
Then Emily called back.
Her voice was barely audible.
“Claire?”
“Where are you?”
“I lied to you.”
“About what?”
She began crying.
“I wasn't sick in your bedroom.”
My chest tightened.
“Then why were you there?”
“Because I needed to tell Daniel something before you came home.”
“What?”
Silence.
Then Emily whispered:
“I'm pregnant.”
I closed my eyes.
“How far?”
“Twenty-two weeks.”
Daniel stared at the phone.
He looked as shocked as I felt.
Emily continued.
“And Claire... I never slept with your husband.”
“Then whose baby is it?”
A door slammed on Emily's end.
She gasped.
“Emily?”
Her voice dropped.
“I know whose embryo they gave me.”
The line crackled.
May you like
Then she whispered my name one last time.
And somebody took the phone from her...
