Chapter 7 - The Secret Hidden in Noah's Blood
Elise felt the room spin.
For a moment, Marcus's words seemed impossible to understand.
Gabriel might not be Noah's biological father.
She stared at him.
“What kind of sick game are you playing?”
Marcus remained calm.
“I'm telling you what the records suggest.”
“What records?”
He pointed toward the envelope.
Elise didn't touch it.
“Noah is Gabriel's son.”
“Then you should have no reason to fear a test.”
Elise stepped closer.
“Get out.”
Marcus looked toward the sleeping boy.
“Elise—”
“GET OUT.”
A nurse appeared in the doorway.
“Is everything okay?”
Elise pointed toward Marcus.
“This man needs to leave.”
Marcus raised both hands.
“Of course.”
He moved toward the door.
But before leaving, he turned.
“Ask Gabriel about the fertility clinic.”
Then he disappeared.
Elise stood motionless.
The fertility clinic.
She remembered it.
Eight years earlier, she and Gabriel had struggled to conceive.
After two miscarriages, they had sought treatment at a private reproductive medicine center in Manhattan.
The process had been exhausting.
Blood tests.
Appointments.
Injections.
Hope followed by disappointment.
Then finally, a pregnancy.
Noah.
Their miracle.
Elise looked toward her son.
She remembered carrying him.
Feeling his first movements.
Hearing his heartbeat.
Giving birth to him after fourteen hours of labor.
Nothing Marcus said could change the fact that she was his mother.
But Gabriel?
She suddenly remembered something strange.
During the fertility treatment, Richard Whitmore had insisted on paying the clinic directly.
He had claimed it was a gift.
A way of helping his son and daughter-in-law.
Elise had never questioned it.
Until now.
When Gabriel returned, she told him everything.
He listened in silence.
Then he sat beside the bed.
“My father recommended that clinic.”
Elise looked at him.
“I remember.”
“He knew the director.”
“Dr. Voss?”
Gabriel nodded.
Elise's face went pale.
“The same doctor who later had me committed?”
“Yes.”
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Gabriel reached for the envelope.
Inside were three documents.
A laboratory report.
A medical consent form.
And a handwritten letter.
The report contained a patient identification number.
The consent form had Gabriel's signature.
But the date was wrong.
It had been signed while Gabriel was overseas.
Another forgery.
The letter was from Rose Bennett.
Gabriel unfolded it.
If you are reading this, something has happened to me. I tried to stop the procedure, but they threatened my family. The embryos were not handled according to the patients' consent. Richard Whitmore knew. Dr. Voss knew. Marcus Hale helped move the records.
Elise covered her mouth.
Gabriel continued reading.
I cannot prove whose genetic material was used. The original files were removed. But I know the couple was deceived.
Gabriel lowered the letter.
His face was white.
Elise whispered, “What does this mean?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
She looked toward Noah.
“Whatever it means, we don't tell him until we understand.”
Gabriel nodded.
“He's been through enough.”
They arranged for an independent attorney to help them obtain legitimate medical records.
They also agreed that any genetic testing would be handled carefully, with appropriate professional guidance.
Neither wanted Noah to feel that his place in the family depended on a laboratory result.
That evening, Detective Collins called.
“We found something at the Vermont property.”
Gabriel stood.
“My father?”
“No. The house was empty.”
“What did you find?”
“A private server containing archived medical records.”
Gabriel glanced toward Elise.
“From Briarwood?”
“Possibly. We're still reviewing them.”
“Is Marcus involved?”
Collins hesitated.
“We found his name on several security contracts.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Then Collins continued.
“But there's something else.”
“What?”
“We found evidence that the fertility clinic maintained an unauthorized donor registry.”
Gabriel gripped the phone.
“An unauthorized what?”
“A registry of genetic material used without proper consent.”
Elise watched his face.
“Gabriel?”
He could barely speak.
Collins's voice became grave.
“And one of the names in that registry is Richard Whitmore.”
Gabriel felt sick.
He looked toward Noah.
May you like
Then toward Elise.
And for the first time, he understood that the truth might be far more disturbing than anything they had imagined.
