Chapter 4: The Third Name
I zoomed in on the photograph until the letters became blurry.
Then I zoomed out and tried again.
The third name was unmistakable.
*Michael Carter.*
Daniel's younger brother.
I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing.
Michael had been part of our lives for years. He was the quiet one in the family, the man who helped Daniel move furniture, fixed our leaking kitchen sink, and brought groceries when I was recovering from my second IVF procedure.
He had always treated me like a sister.
More importantly, Michael had a medical condition.
At twenty-six, he had been diagnosed with a serious fertility disorder. Daniel had told me that his younger brother would probably never have biological children.
I remembered the evening we received the news.
We had been sitting around Daniel's parents' dining table when Michael quietly announced that he and his girlfriend had ended their relationship.
Daniel had put a hand on his shoulder.
“Don't worry, Mike. You can still have a family someday.””
Michael had smiled sadly.
“Not the way I imagined.””
Now his name was on a reproductive consent form connected to Vanessa's pregnancy.
I called Margaret.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Emily? It's almost eleven.””
“I'm sorry, but you need to see something.””
I forwarded Vanessa's photograph.
For nearly a minute, Margaret said nothing.
Then she asked, “Where did you get this?””
“Vanessa sent it.””
“Does she know you have an attorney?””
“I haven't told her.””
Margaret exhaled.
“Don't respond. Don't forward it to anyone else. Save the original message and the attachment.””
“Why is Michael's name there?””
“I can't determine that from a photograph.””
“He was listed as a genetic parent.””
“Possibly. But we need the full document.””
I walked toward my bedroom window.
“Michael was told he couldn't have children.””
“Emily, there are several possible explanations. We shouldn't jump to conclusions.””
“What if he was the sperm donor?””
Margaret went quiet.
I continued.
“What if Daniel used my embryo and Michael's sperm to create this pregnancy?””
“That's something we need to investigate.””
I pressed my forehead against the cold glass.
“But why would they do that?””
Margaret's voice softened.
“Because there may be a medical or personal arrangement you don't know about. We need evidence before making accusations.””
After we hung up, I opened my contacts.
Michael's name was still there.
I hadn't spoken to him since the divorce.
The last time we met, he had hugged me outside Daniel's parents' house.
“Take care of yourself, Em,” he had said.
I had cried all the way home.
I typed a message.
Michael, I need to ask you something important about the fertility clinic. Please call me.
I waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Then my phone rang.
“Emily?””
His voice sounded tired.
“Hi, Michael.””
“Is everything okay?””
“No. I saw a document with your name on it.””
Silence.
“What document?””
“A genetic parentage consent form. Your name is listed beside Daniel's and Vanessa's.””
I heard him inhale sharply.
“Where did you see that?””
“Vanessa sent it to me.””
He didn't answer.
“Michael, did you donate sperm for their pregnancy?””
A long pause followed.
Then he said, “I think you should come to my apartment.””
“Why?””
“Because there's something Daniel never told you.””
My stomach tightened.
“Can you tell me now?””
“No. Not over the phone.””
“Michael, I need to know whether you were involved in transferring my embryo.””
His voice cracked.
“Emily, I didn't know about the embryo until after the transfer.””
I closed my eyes.
“What?””
“I swear to you.””
“Then why is your name on the document?””
He sighed.
“Because Daniel told me Vanessa needed a donor. He said the clinic had a legal arrangement and that you had already agreed to everything.””
I felt my knees weaken.
“When?””
“Last September.””
The same month as the transfer.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Did you give them your sperm?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because she's my wife.””
I froze.
“What?””
Michael went silent.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Vanessa and I were married before she started seeing Daniel.””
I gripped the phone.
“That isn't possible.””
“We were married for eleven months. She left me after the doctor told us natural conception would be extremely unlikely.””
I couldn't speak.
Michael continued.
“Daniel knew everything. He was the one who introduced Vanessa to the clinic's medical director. He said he could help us become parents.””
I felt a strange pressure in my chest.
“Why did Vanessa marry Daniel?””
Michael laughed bitterly.
“I don't know anymore.””
“Were you divorced when she became pregnant?””
“Yes. She filed for divorce. Daniel told me he was helping her through the process.””
I stared at the floor.
“So you were the sperm donor?””
“Yes.””
“And Daniel knew?””
“He arranged it.””
“Did you know the embryo came from my treatment?””
“No. Not until recently.””
His voice became almost inaudible.
“Emily, I found out two weeks ago.””
I swallowed.
“How?””
“Daniel came to see me. He said Vanessa was pregnant with a baby that might be genetically related to both of us. He wanted me to sign a statement confirming that I had knowingly donated sperm under the clinic's program.””
“Did you sign?””
“No.””
“Why not?””
“Because he wouldn't show me the original paperwork.””
I covered my mouth.
“Michael, do you have any idea what this means?””
“I do now.””
He paused.
“Emily, there's another reason I called you.””
“What?””
“Daniel is telling everyone tomorrow that the baby is his biological child.””
I stared at the photograph.
Three names.
Three people.
One pregnancy.
And one woman who had apparently been excluded from every decision.
“Michael, I'm coming to see you.””
“Don't tell Daniel.””
“I won't.””
Before he hung up, he said something that made me shiver.
“Emily, there's something about that embryo. I think Daniel knew the truth before any of us.””
The following morning, I drove to Michael's apartment.
He lived in a modest building on the north side of Chicago.
When he opened the door, I barely recognized him.
His face was pale. His beard had grown unevenly, and his apartment was filled with unopened boxes.
“Come in,” he said.
On the coffee table sat a thick envelope.
Michael poured two cups of coffee.
“I should have told you earlier.””
I sat down.
“Start at the beginning.””
He rubbed his hands together.
“Vanessa and I wanted children. We tried for years. When the doctors told us my fertility was severely compromised, she started looking into assisted reproduction.””
“Why didn't you tell Daniel?””
“Because I was embarrassed. But Vanessa told him everything.””
He handed me a photograph.
It showed Michael and Vanessa standing outside a restaurant.
They were wearing wedding rings.
The date was printed on the back.
Two years earlier.
I looked up.
“Daniel was at your wedding.””
Michael nodded.
“He gave the toast.””
I remembered.
Daniel had joked that Michael had finally found someone who could tolerate his terrible cooking.
Everyone had laughed.
I had never suspected anything.
“What happened after the divorce?””
“Vanessa told me she wanted a fresh start. Then Daniel offered to help her find another fertility specialist.””
“Did you agree?””
“Yes. I thought it was an ordinary donor arrangement.””
“And the embryo?””
“I knew nothing about that.””
Michael opened the envelope.
Inside were several emails and a printed laboratory report.
One email was from Daniel.
Mike, don't worry about the medical details. The clinic has everything under control. Vanessa will be able to carry the pregnancy, and you'll finally have a biological child.
I read it twice.
Then I found another email.
This one was addressed to Dr. Leonard.
Please make sure the Carter embryo is used. We have already discussed the arrangement with the intended recipient.
My hands began trembling.
“Carter embryo?””
Michael nodded.
“I thought it meant one of the embryos created using my sperm.””
I looked at him.
“But I never donated embryos.””
“Exactly.””
He pulled another page from the envelope.
It was a laboratory report with two reference numbers.
One matched the number Laura had given me.
The other matched the transfer document.
“Look at the dates,” Michael said.
I compared them.
The embryo had been stored under my original patient number.
Then, after the transfer authorization, its identifier had been changed.
My heart pounded.
“Why would they change it?””
Michael shook his head.
“I don't know.””
He reached for another sheet.
“This was attached to the email Daniel sent me.””
At the bottom was a handwritten note.
*Do not disclose original embryo source to recipient without legal clearance.*
I looked at him.
“Who wrote this?””
Michael pointed to the initials.
“Dr. Leonard.””
I sat back.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Michael said, “Emily, I don't think Daniel wanted to give me a child.””
I looked at him.
“What do you mean?””
“I think he wanted to use my medical history to make the pregnancy look like a donor arrangement. But I don't understand why.””
My phone vibrated.
A message from Margaret.
The clinic has released the complete consent package to our legal team. Call me immediately.
I stood.
“Something's happening.””
Michael grabbed his coat.
“I'm coming with you.””
I hesitated.
“Are you sure?””
He nodded.
“Vanessa is carrying a child that may be genetically connected to both of us. I deserve to know the truth, too.””
As we walked toward the door, another message arrived.
This time from Daniel.
I hope you're ready for tomorrow, Emily. Vanessa has something special planned for you.
I showed it to Michael.
He read it.
Then he looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
“Emily, I think Daniel knows we found out.””
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And for the first time, I wondered whether the baby shower was not simply a celebration.
It was a trap.
