Chapter 5: The Doctor Who Lied
Dr. Melissa Grant refused to meet me at Westbrook.
She chose a small coffee shop three miles away, tucked between a pharmacy and a dry-cleaning business.
When I arrived, she was already seated in the back corner.
She wore a gray coat and kept checking the entrance.
“Mrs. Bennett?””
“Yes.””
She stood briefly, then sat again.
“Thank you for coming.””
I placed my bag on the chair beside me.
“Tell me what happened.””
Dr. Grant looked at Richard, who had accompanied me.
“Before I say anything, I need you to understand that I am not authorized to release confidential patient information.””
Richard opened his briefcase.
“Then you should speak only about records you are legally permitted to discuss. We are not asking you to violate patient confidentiality.””
She nodded.
A waitress approached.
“Can I get you anything?””
“Coffee,” Dr. Grant said.
I shook my head.
“Nothing, thank you.””
When the waitress left, Dr. Grant placed a folded sheet of paper on the table.
“This is a copy of an internal incident report.””
I unfolded it.
The document described a discrepancy in embryo storage records.
Two embryos had been listed as destroyed.
One had subsequently been transferred to another storage facility.
The second had been marked as unavailable.
“Why?”” I asked.
“Because someone changed the inventory records after the transfer.””
“Who?””
Dr. Grant looked down.
“Dr. Harris approved the change.””
My hands tightened around the paper.
“Why would she do that?””
“I don't know everything. But I know she received several payments from a consulting company connected to your husband's business.””
Richard immediately wrote something down.
“Do you have evidence?””
“I have copies of internal emails.””
She removed a small envelope.
Inside were three printed messages.
The first was from Eric.
The patient must not be informed of the transfer until the legal authorization is complete.
The second was from Dr. Harris.
I cannot continue without proper consent.
The third was dated two days later.
Payment received. The records will reflect the approved procedure.
I stared at the messages.
“He paid her?””
Dr. Grant nodded.
“I discovered the discrepancy during an internal audit. When I raised concerns, I was told to stop investigating.””
“By whom?””
“Dr. Harris.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Did you know Natalie was the recipient?””
Dr. Grant hesitated.
“I suspected it.””
“Why?””
“Because she attended several appointments with your husband. She also asked questions about genetic screening.””
I looked at Richard.
He was already reading the emails again.
“Dr. Grant,” he asked, “do you know whether the embryo was transferred?””
“Yes.””
The word landed heavily.
“Was it viable?””
“Yes.””
I pressed my fingertips against the table.
“And Natalie?””
Dr. Grant lowered her voice.
“She was listed as the recipient.””
I couldn't speak.
The waitress returned with the coffee.
Dr. Grant waited until she left.
“I am sorry, Claire.””
I stared at the cup.
For years, I had imagined what it would feel like to become pregnant.
I had imagined telling Eric.
I had imagined holding a positive test with shaking hands.
I had imagined my mother crying with happiness.
Instead, my sister had apparently received the one embryo I had been told no longer existed.
And my husband had helped arrange it.
“Why?”” I finally whispered.
Dr. Grant looked at me.
“I don't know.””
Richard closed the folder.
“Do you know when the transfer occurred?””
“Approximately five months ago.””
I calculated the dates.
Natalie had announced her pregnancy at the dinner the previous evening.
Five months.
That meant she had known about the pregnancy for months.
She had watched me visit my parents, attend family gatherings, and speak about how badly I wanted to become a mother.
All while carrying an embryo created from my eggs.
I stood so quickly that my chair scraped against the floor.
“I need to leave.””
Richard gathered the documents.
“Claire—”
“I need air.””
Outside, the November wind cut through my coat.
I walked toward the parking lot without looking back.
Richard followed.
“Don't contact Natalie yet,” he said.
I turned.
“Why?””
“Because we need to establish the complete chain of authorization.””
“She used my embryo.””
“We need proof of every detail.””
“What more proof do you need?””
Richard didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, “I need to know whether she understood what she was agreeing to.””
I stared at him.
“She signed as a witness on my financial documents. She signed medical authorization forms. She knew exactly what she was doing.””
“Possibly. But the legal distinction matters.””
My phone buzzed.
A message from Natalie.
Please meet me. I want to explain everything.
I showed Richard.
He shook his head.
“Not alone.””
I typed a response.
Tomorrow. 10 a.m. At the house.
She replied immediately.
I'll be there.
That night, I returned to the home Eric and I had shared for ten years.
His clothes were still in the closet.
His shaving kit was still beside the bathroom sink.
A framed photograph from our fifth anniversary sat on the bedroom dresser.
In it, he was kissing my forehead while I laughed.
I picked it up.
For a moment, I wondered whether any of it had been real.
Then I placed it facedown.
At 9:55 the next morning, Natalie arrived.
She was wearing a loose cream sweater and black trousers. Her hair was tied back, and she looked noticeably smaller without the confident pink dress from dinner.
Richard sat beside me in the living room.
Natalie stopped when she saw him.
“You brought a lawyer?””
“I brought someone who understands the consequences of what you've done.””
She swallowed.
“Claire, I know you're angry.””
“Sit down.””
She lowered herself onto the sofa.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then I placed the medical records on the coffee table.
“Tell me about the embryo.””
Her eyes filled immediately.
“I didn't know at first.””
“Didn't know what?””
“That it was yours.””
I stared at her.
“Explain.””
She twisted her fingers together.
“Eric told me the clinic had several unclaimed embryos. He said one had been donated through a private arrangement.””
“Did you believe him?””
“He showed me paperwork.””
“Was my name on it?””
She looked down.
“Yes.””
“And you didn't question why?””
“He said you had signed a consent form before your last treatment.””
I leaned forward.
“I was at the clinic. I was asking Dr. Harris whether I could try another cycle.””
Natalie began crying.
“I know that now.””
“Did you know the embryo came from my eggs?””
She nodded.
“When?””
“After the transfer.””
My chest tightened.
“So you knew.””
“I found out when Eric showed me the genetic report.””
“And you kept the pregnancy?””
She pressed her hand against her stomach.
“I was already pregnant.””
I stood.
“That's your excuse?””
“No!””
Her voice cracked.
“I didn't know how to tell you.””
“You could have started with the truth.””
She looked toward Richard.
“I was afraid.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Of what? That I would be upset that you were carrying my biological child?””
Natalie shook her head.
“Eric said you would try to take the baby away.””
The room went still.
Richard leaned forward.
“Did Mr. Bennett tell you that he had legal custody rights over the embryo?””
“Yes.””
“Did he tell you that he had submitted forged consent documents?””
Her expression changed.
“I didn't know they were forged.””
“Did you sign as a witness?””
Natalie nodded.
“Did you sign any other documents?””
She hesitated.
Then she reached into her handbag and removed a small envelope.
“I brought something.””
She placed it on the table.
Inside was a copy of a private agreement.
The title read:
*Embryo Transfer and Parental Rights Agreement.*
I began reading.
The first paragraph stated that Natalie would carry the pregnancy.
The second described Eric as the intended legal father.
The third contained a clause about financial compensation.
I looked up.
“Compensation?””
Natalie wiped her cheeks.
“Eric said he would provide for me and the baby.””
“How much?””
She didn't answer.
Richard took the document.
His expression darkened as he reached the final page.
“Claire, look at this.””
I moved closer.
There was a paragraph titled Future Parental Arrangements.
It stated that if Eric and I divorced, the child would be raised primarily by Eric and Natalie.
But the next paragraph was even more disturbing.
It said that Natalie agreed to cooperate in transferring certain assets to a family trust established for the child's future.
My grandmother's trust.
The same trust Eric had been trying to access.
I looked at Natalie.
“Did you know about the money?””
She nodded faintly.
“How much did he promise you?””
“Three hundred thousand dollars.””
I felt sick.
“So you agreed to carry my embryo in exchange for money and a share of my inheritance?””
“No. It wasn't like that.””
“Then what was it like?””
She began sobbing.
“I thought we were building a family.””
I looked at her.
“You were building a family using my husband, my money, and my embryo.””
Natalie covered her face.
Richard continued examining the agreement.
Then he stopped at the final page.
“Claire, this document is dated six months ago.””
I nodded.
“That's before the embryo transfer.””
“Yes.””
He turned the page around.
“There's another signature.””
I looked down.
The witness signature belonged to Natalie.
But the second signature was not Eric's.
It was my mother's.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Why is my mother signing this?””
Natalie looked up sharply.
“Claire, I can explain.””
I stepped backward.
“No.””
She began shaking her head.
“Your mother didn't know what it was.””
“Then why did she sign it?””
Natalie looked at the document.
May you like
Then she whispered:
“Because Eric told her you were dying.””
