Chapter 3 - Noah Was Born From Emily
Emily could not speak.
The newborn moved against her chest, searching instinctively for warmth.
She held him tighter.
“No.”
Richard took one step forward.
Security stopped him again.
Emily stared at her husband.
“I was nineteen when Noah was born.”
Richard nodded.
“I had never met you.”
“I know.”
“I had never been pregnant.”
“I know.”
“Then explain what you just said.”
Margaret sat down.
For the first time since Emily had known her, the older woman looked
fragile.
Richard whispered, “Your eggs were used.”
Emily felt sick.
“What?”
“When you were eighteen, you had surgery.”
She remembered.
A ruptured ovarian cyst.
Her father had taken her to a private fertility clinic affiliated with
his research hospital because he knew the surgeon.
“I had a cyst removed.”
Richard looked away.
“Your father preserved ovarian tissue.”
Emily stared.
“I never consented to that.”
“No.”
“Then how did you get it?”
Margaret answered.
“Andrew.”
Emily looked at her.
“My father gave you my eggs?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then exactly what happened?”
Margaret’s voice shook.
“Andrew was researching fertility preservation. He collected tissue that
should have been destroyed.”
Emily’s breathing became shallow.
Richard continued.
“My first wife, Sarah, couldn’t produce viable eggs.”
Emily stared at him.
“You used mine.”
“I didn’t know they were yours.”
“Did Sarah?”
“No.”
“Did my father?”
“Yes.”
Emily closed her eyes.
Her father had been a respected reproductive endocrinologist.
She remembered him as gentle.
Patient.
The man who taught her to ride a bicycle.
The man who cried at old movies.
Now a new version of him appeared.
A doctor who had taken biological material from his own daughter.
“Why?”
Margaret answered.
“Money.”
Emily looked at her.
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“Your father’s research was failing. Richard’s father financed the
clinic.”
Emily understood another piece.
The Mercer family had money.
A lot of it.
Margaret’s late husband had owned a medical-device empire.
“Richard’s father bought my eggs?”
Margaret shook her head.
“He financed the program.”
“That is not better.”
“No.”
Emily looked at Richard.
“And Noah?”
“Sarah carried him.”
“He was genetically mine?”
“Yes.”
Emily began crying.
A child she had never known was hers had lived four years.
She had walked through the world while her biological son existed
somewhere else.
“Did he know?”
“No.”
“Did you know before he died?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
Richard hesitated.
Emily’s grief turned sharp.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
She stared.
Six months.
She had been pregnant for three.
“You knew before we conceived this baby.”
“Yes.”
Emily looked down at her son.
“How was he conceived?”
Richard’s face went white.
Emily’s heart began pounding.
She had undergone IVF after two years of trying.
Richard had insisted they use the Mercer Reproductive Center.
The same medical network connected to his family.
“No.”
Richard whispered, “Emily.”
She looked at him.
“This baby wasn’t conceived from the embryo we selected.”
Margaret stood.
“Enough.”
Emily screamed.
“No! Not enough!”
The baby began crying.
A nurse stepped closer.
Emily immediately softened her voice and rocked him.
“It’s okay. Mommy’s here.”
The word Mommy broke her.
How many times had Sarah said that to Noah?
Did Sarah know the truth before she died?
Emily looked at Richard.
“Whose embryo is my son?”
Richard could not answer.
Tyler did.
“Yours.”
Emily turned.
“What?”
“Your egg. Richard’s sperm.”
“That’s what I was told.”
Tyler shook his head.
“But it wasn’t the embryo created this year.”
Emily’s skin went cold.
“Then when?”
Tyler looked at Margaret.
“Eleven years ago.”
Emily stared.
The embryo had existed before she met Richard.
Before Noah died.
Before Sarah died.
Before Emily knew any of them.
Richard whispered, “There were multiple embryos created from your
tissue.”
Emily felt physically ill.
“How many?”
Nobody answered.
“How many children?”
May you like
Margaret closed her eyes.
“We don’t know.”
