Chapter 7 - The Secret Clinic
The private airfield in Bangor, Maine, was shrouded in heavy fog when Julian’s chartered jet touched down at dawn. We had left Oliver in the secure care of Uncle Richard and private guards at the estate. Every second away from him felt like tearing my own skin, but I knew I couldn't bring an infant into the storm we were about to walk into.
St. Jude Private Maternity Clinic was hidden away in the pine forests outside Camden, disguised as an exclusive wellness retreat behind towering iron gates and dense evergreens. It was the kind of place where the ultra-wealthy went when they wanted their medical procedures kept entirely off the public record.
Julian flashed his federal subpoena along with emergency court orders Richard had managed to secure overnight. The receptionist’s face turned white as she read the documents, hurriedly calling the clinic director.
Minutes later, an elderly man in a white lab coat entered the private conference room. His badge read *Dr. Robert Sterling*. His eyes were sunken, dark circles betraying a night without sleep.
"Mrs. Vance," Dr. Sterling said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I saw the news about your husband’s arrest in Boston this morning. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone came."
"Then you know why I'm here," I said, slamming both hands on the table. "Six months ago, a baby girl was delivered here from my embryo. Where is the birth certificate? Who signed the release papers?"
Dr. Sterling swallowed hard, sinking into a leather chair. "Ethan Vance presented a legal decree stating you had passed away in a private sanitarium in Switzerland. He brought forged death certificates signed by an overseas coroner, along with full custody transfer rights to a designated guardian."
"And you didn't verify it?" Julian snapped. "You didn't run a basic background check on a supposed deceased mother?"
"He paid fifteen million dollars in endowment funds to our research foundation, Mr. Mercer," Sterling admitted, looking down at his trembling hands. "At this level of private medicine, people pay for discretion, not questions."
"The baby," I choked out, my heart in my throat. "Who took her from this room?"
Sterling pulled a thick manila folder from his leather briefcase and slid it across the table toward me. "Eleanor Harrington took her. But Mrs. Vance... you need to understand something. Eleanor didn't take her home to their estate."
I froze. "What do you mean?"
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"The baby was born with a severe congenital heart condition," Dr. Sterling whispered. "Ethan knew about it before the birth. That’s why he sold her. He didn't want a damaged child."
***
