Chapter 4 - THE HOSPITAL LIE
The agents rushed me to St. Matthew’s Medical Center.
Marcus rode beside me while another agent followed with Tyler restrained in the back of a black SUV.
My daughter remained still.
I pressed both hands to my stomach.
“Move, baby. Please move.”
Marcus spoke into his phone.
“Notify obstetrics. Possible chemical exposure, thirty-two weeks, trauma, fetal distress.”
“Eight months,” I whispered.
He looked at me.
“What?”
“I’m eight months pregnant.”
His expression changed.
“According to the files, you’re thirty-two weeks.”
“No. Tyler said thirty-five.”
Marcus ended the call.
At the hospital, Dr. Nora Ellis examined me.
The fetal heartbeat was weak but present.
I cried when I heard it.
Then Nora studied my blood results.
“There’s a hormone blocker in your system.”
“What does that mean?”
“It may have altered fetal development and concealed your actual gestational age.”
Marcus entered carrying a sealed file recovered from Tyler’s hidden office.
My name appeared on the front.
SUBJECT E-29.
My pregnancy had been monitored since before conception.
There were photographs of me sleeping.
Copies of my medical history.
Blood samples collected without my consent.
And a signed embryo-transfer authorization.
My signature was forged.
Nora read the date.
“This pregnancy did not begin naturally.”
I stared at her.
“That’s impossible.”
Tyler and I had been trying for a baby.
At least, I thought we had.
Nora turned the page.
The embryo was created using my egg.
The father was listed only as DONOR 17.
Not Tyler.
My entire body went cold.
Marcus showed me another document.
The transfer had happened during a procedure Tyler called treatment for ovarian cysts.
I had been sedated.
I remembered waking with him holding my hand.
He had kissed my forehead and said we could start trying again soon.
I had already been pregnant.
“Why?” I asked.
Marcus looked toward the fetal monitor.
“Your father was involved in a classified fertility experiment twenty-nine years ago.”
“My father is dead.”
Marcus did not answer.
A nurse entered quickly.
“There’s a man downstairs demanding to see Emily.”
“Tyler?”
“No.”
She handed Marcus an identification card.
The name made my breath stop.
May you like
Dr. Jonathan Reed.
My father.
