Part 6
“How did she know?”
“The letter.”
“The letter only said storage had expired.”
“It referenced the embryo number. She recognized it.”
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
“How?”
His mother’s eyes shifted.
“How did you recognize the embryo number?”
Evelyn stood.
“I was involved in the original treatment.”
“You paid one invoice.”
“I paid many.”
“No. We did.”
“I covered the medication after insurance denied it.”
Daniel remembered a check arriving after the miscarriage. He had assumed it was reimbursement for funeral expenses from his father’s estate.
“Why do you know the embryo number?”
Evelyn did not answer.
Mara’s face changed.
“You had access to the records.”
“No.”
“You knew it was male before I told you.”
Evelyn’s lips parted.
Mara pushed herself higher against the pillows despite the pain.
“How did you know?”
“I guessed.”
“You said the embryo is male.”
“I may have read it in the letter.”
“It wasn’t in the letter.”
Daniel watched his mother.
The pause lasted too long.
Mara’s fear shifted.
Not away from the bowl.
Deeper.
“You called the clinic,” she said.
Evelyn lifted her chin.
“I made inquiries.”
“When?”
“After the letter came.”
“The letter came today.”
“I had questions.”
“You already knew.”
Evelyn’s eyes moved toward the window.
Daniel felt the pieces changing shape again.
“Mara,” he said slowly, “how did you get the transfer approved?”
She looked at him.
“The clinic had our old authorization.”
“Did anyone there contact you before the storage letter?”
“No.”
“Did my mother?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Mara’s breathing slowed as she thought.
“She asked if I had kept any paperwork from the fertility treatment.”
“When?”
“Christmas.”
Seven months earlier.
Before the transfer.
Daniel turned to Evelyn.
“What did you know at Christmas?”
“Nothing.”
“Why ask about the paperwork?”
“I was cleaning the study.”
“You do not clean our house.”
“I was organizing.”
“You were looking.”
Her eyes hardened.
“For what?”
He stepped closer.
“For what, Mom?”
Evelyn looked at Mara.
“I wanted to know whether she had destroyed the remaining embryo.”
Mara went still.
Daniel could not immediately speak.
His mother continued, words arriving faster now, as though the truth had broken a seal she could no longer control.
“After the miscarriage, she said she could not bear another transfer. You said the same. But the consent forms remained active. I knew that eventually she would change her mind.”
“You wanted the embryo kept,” Daniel said.
“It was viable.”
“It was ours.”
“It was your only male embryo.”
The phrase made Daniel feel ill.
Not their child.
Not even their embryo.
A category. A continuation. A possession sorted by sex.
“You pressured her to transfer it?”
“No.”
Mara stared at Evelyn.
“You sent the clinic email.”
Evelyn’s face changed.
Daniel looked between them.
“What email?”
Mara’s eyes remained fixed on his mother.
“The clinic contacted me last winter. They said someone had requested an updated status report. They apologized and said it was an administrative error.”
Daniel turned.
“You requested it.”
Evelyn said nothing.
“You got access to our records.”
“I had the original account information.”
“You impersonated one of us?”
“I used information I was already authorized to know.”
“You were not authorized.”
“I paid for the creation of that embryo.”
“You paid a pharmacy bill.”
“I paid for the possibility of a grandson.”
Mara covered her mouth.
Daniel felt his anger become almost physical, a pressure behind his ribs.
“You knew she might transfer it,” he said. “You wanted her to.”
Evelyn’s eyes shone.
“I wanted you to have the family you deserved.”
“And tonight?”
His mother looked at the bowl.
Daniel followed her gaze.
The answer changed before she gave it.
“You found out Mara lied to me,” he said. “You confronted her.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to frighten her.”
“No.”
“You wanted to make her sick enough to confess before I came home.”
Evelyn’s breath caught.
Mara whispered, “That’s what she said.”
Daniel turned.
“What?”
“She said you would be home soon. She said I had one chance to tell you myself.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I did not threaten you.”
“You said if I didn’t tell him, you would.”
“That is not a threat.”
“You brought the soup after I refused.”
Evelyn’s voice rose.
“Because you were shaking.”
“I was shaking because you told me you could prove I committed fraud.”
“I said the clinic could investigate.”
“You said they could take the baby.”
Daniel looked at his mother.
“Did you say that?”
Evelyn’s silence answered.
Mara’s fingers dug into the blanket.
“She said the transfer might be considered unauthorized. She said if I kept lying, she could call someone who would make sure the baby stayed with the Mercer family.”
Daniel’s mouth went dry.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Mara said. “She wouldn’t explain.”
Evelyn took one step toward them.
“I was trying to make her understand the seriousness.”
Daniel moved between her and the bed.
“Stay back.”
“I would never take the baby.”
“You just said you paid for him.”
“I said I helped create the opportunity.”
“You called him your family and excluded his mother in the same breath.”
“That is not what I meant.”
“It is exactly what you meant.”
A distant siren became audible through the closed window.
Mara heard it.
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
Evelyn heard it too.
She looked toward the open door.
Daniel saw the instinct again.
“You are staying.”
Her face sharpened.
“You cannot imprison me.”
“No. But if you leave before telling the paramedics what you used, I will give them your name, the phone number, the bottle description, and everything you just admitted.”
“You would do that to your own mother?”
Daniel stared at her.
“You did this to yourself.”
The siren grew louder.
Then passed.
Not theirs.
Mara let out a strained laugh that turned into a sob.
Daniel returned to her side.
“Still coming.”
“I know.”
May you like
He brushed damp hair from her forehead.
The gesture felt painfully familiar. He had done the same thing during the miscarriage, while a doctor explained that no one could tell them why it happened.
