Chapter 3 - THE CHILD THEY BUILT FROM MY BODY
The fertility clinic was shut down before midnight.
Federal agents seized servers, storage tanks, consent forms, and financial records.
The main embryo inventory showed no discrepancy.
The hidden backup did.
Seven embryos had been created from my eggs.
Not one.
Seven.
I had authorized storage of six unfertilized eggs.
Alejandro used all of them.
Five embryos were marked nonviable.
One became Mariana’s pregnancy.
One remained unaccounted for.
Dr. Vale had falsified destruction reports.
The missing embryo had been moved three months earlier.
Recipient listed only as L.P.
I asked Calvin if the initials meant another surrogate.
He said, “Possibly.”
Claire said nothing.
I noticed.
“What do you know?”
She opened a file.
L.P. was linked to a woman named Lucia Price.
Twenty-nine.
No known connection to Alejandro.
She had been admitted to another hospital two months earlier with pregnancy complications.
The pregnancy ended.
Official record: fetal loss.
But there was no pathology report.
No remains.
No infant death certificate.
Nothing.
The embryo may have survived.
The child may have been born early.
Or transferred.
“We need Lucia,” I said.
Police found her apartment empty.
A suitcase missing.
Photographs removed from the walls.
In the trash, investigators found a hospital bracelet.
BABY GIRL PRICE.
A girl had been born.
Alive.
My biological daughter may already exist somewhere.
I turned toward Mariana.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Did Alejandro?”
She looked away.
That was answer enough.
He had mentioned another arrangement once.
He said if her pregnancy failed, there was a backup.
She assumed he meant another embryo in storage.
Not another woman.
Not another child.
Alejandro was released from hospital security custody because no criminal charge had yet been filed.
Then he disappeared.
His car was found at the airport.
No boarding record.
His phone went dark.
His attorney claimed he was under emotional distress.
Calvin called it flight.
The police searched our home.
My closet had been opened.
My mother’s estate files were missing.
A wall safe had been emptied.
The family trust held more than money.
It owned twenty-two percent of Montes Medical Logistics, Alejandro’s company.
If I divorced him, he risked losing access.
If I died, most assets passed to a children’s foundation unless I had a biological child.
Then the child would inherit.
A child Alejandro could control as legal father.
I understood.
The secret embryo was not only about family.
It was about succession.
He needed a biological child tied to my estate.
But he needed me removed from the legal picture.
Mariana’s waiver would do that.
If the first child disappeared or died, another hidden child could support the same claim.
He had created backups.
Not because he feared losing a baby.
Because he feared losing money.
My surgery consent made sense now.
In the hospital suite, he chose Mariana’s treatment first because preserving her pregnancy preserved his plan.
My life could wait.
Maybe permanently.
Then the hospital toxicology report arrived.
The car crash was not random.
My blood contained a sedative I had not been prescribed.
Low dose.
Enough to slow reaction time.
Someone drugged me before I drove.
Alejandro poured wine at dinner.
I drank half a glass.
He refused to let me call a car.
The crash may have been part of the plan.
If I died, he would present the unborn child as my biological heir and himself as guardian.
Calvin filed emergency orders freezing every trust account.
Alejandro responded through his attorney.
He claimed I had become mentally unstable after surgery.
He requested temporary control of marital assets.
Attached was a psychiatric evaluation signed by Dr. Vale.
The missing fertility doctor.
The report diagnosed me with paranoia.
It was dated two weeks before my accident.
I had never met him for psychiatric care.
Forgery after forgery.
Lie after lie.
Then Mariana asked for protection.
“I’m scared of him.”
“Why now?”
“Because he called.”
“What did he say?”
“He said I ruined everything by telling you about the second embryo.”
Claire leaned forward.
“Did he threaten you?”
“He said accidents happen to pregnant women.”
The room went cold.
Mariana placed her phone on the table.
The call recording had captured his voice.
Enough for a warrant.
Not enough to find him.
Then a nurse entered with a package delivered to my room.
No return address.
Inside was a pink hospital blanket.
A newborn identification band.
BABY GIRL MONTES.
And a photograph.
Alejandro holding a premature infant.
On the back:
SIGN THE DIVORCE SETTLEMENT OR YOU NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.
The child was alive.
May you like
My daughter was alive.
And my husband had her.
