Chapter 6 - CAROLINE
Caroline called from London. She did not defend David. That made me trust her more. She explained that when she lost their son, she was unconscious and David was her designated medical proxy. Doctors placed a research consent in front of him. He signed because he believed it meant routine pathology and genetic testing. It authorized more. Years later Caroline discovered the sample had been used in a Reed-funded study. She blamed David. He blamed himself. The Reed family paid a confidential settlement. Caroline left. David began investigating St. Arden. Then Caroline said, “Lena, do not trust David because he helped you once. Trust documents.” Good advice. She sent Naomi the old settlement. One clause required explicit maternal permission before fetal tissue could be retained for nonclinical research. Yet the current St. Arden system included a special Reed-descendant research consent that could be signed by a legal guardian for minors. If Michael or Rebecca gained authority, they could sign.
Rebecca denied intending to. So did Michael. Then an internal memo showed a research team had already prepared a potential triplet cohort pending guardian consent. The pattern was enough for regulators to open review. I told David I needed distance. He did not argue. Then Naomi created a formal boundary: David had no medical authority, no right to pay bills, no direct access to my legal strategy, and no role except as an evidence source through counsel. He accepted every term. That mattered. Then I learned something about Michael that complicated the picture. Rebecca nearly died giving birth to him. He grew up hearing the story constantly: childbirth is where women lose control and men must be prepared. It explained his obsession with contingency documents. It did not excuse them. Then an email from Michael to Rebecca surfaced. If Lena survives and remains competent, we step back. That mattered. The next line mattered more. But if she becomes emotional afterward, we still need options.
He had already decided grief itself could be used as evidence of instability. Then my fetal monitor alarmed. Triplet B’s heart rate dropped. The doctors rushed in. After the room settled, the maternal-fetal specialist said, “Lena, we may not have four weeks.” “How long?” He looked at the monitor. “Maybe days.” And suddenly every argument about future custody became terrifyingly immediate.
