Chapter 2 - THE CHILD THEY TOOK
Julian read his mother’s name three times.
MARIANNE CROSS.
The signature sat beneath the transfer authorization as neatly as if she had signed for a package.
His lips parted.
No sound came out.
I remembered Marianne’s handwriting.
Elegant.
Sharp.
Every capital letter leaning slightly forward.
She signed birthday cards the same way.
She signed checks to charities the same way.
She had signed the guest book at our wedding with that same aggressive M.
I knew instantly it was hers.
Julian did too.
“That’s forged.”
Dr. Vance looked at him.
“Possibly.”
“It has to be.”
Sienna wiped her cheeks.
“No.”
Julian spun toward her.
“What did you say?”
She looked down at the little boy.
His son.
My son.
Our son.
The words felt impossible.
Sienna swallowed.
“I said no.”
“You knew?”
She didn’t answer.
Julian stepped toward her.
A nurse quickly approached.
“Sir, you need to keep your voice down.”
He barely looked at her.
“Sienna knew my mother signed this?”
Dr. Vance placed herself between them.
“This conversation needs to move somewhere private.”
“No.”
Julian’s voice cracked.
“I want an answer.”
The little boy started crying.
That sound cut through everything.
My body reacted before my mind did.
I stepped forward.
Sienna immediately pulled him away.
“Don’t.”
I stopped.
The word hurt more than I expected.
I looked at the child.
He rubbed his eyes with one tiny fist.
I had no memory of carrying him.
No memory of feeling him move.
No memory of giving birth.
No memory of holding him for the first time.
Sienna had all of those memories.
That fact did not erase what she had done.
But it complicated every emotion inside me.
Dr. Vance touched my arm.
“Clara.”
“I’m fine.”
I wasn’t.
She led us into a private consultation room.
Sienna sat in the corner with the boy on her lap.
Julian paced.
I remained standing.
Dr. Vance closed the door.
Then she placed the documents on the table.
“We need to separate what we know from what we suspect.”
Julian laughed bitterly.
“My ex-wife is apparently the biological mother of the child I’ve been raising with another woman.”
He pointed at the file.
“My mother’s signature is on an embryo-transfer authorization I never saw.”
“And you want to discuss what we suspect?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Vance’s voice sharpened.
“Because accusations will not help you understand what happened.”
He stopped pacing.
She looked at Sienna.
“You had the embryo transfer.”
Sienna said nothing.
“That is established.”
Silence.
“You were treated under the name Sienna Moore.”
Sienna’s eyes lifted.
Julian stared at her.
“Moore?”
“My mother’s maiden name.”
“You used an alias?”
“I was told to.”
“By who?”
She closed her eyes.
Julian moved toward her.
“By who?”
Sienna hugged the child.
“Your mother.”
The answer landed heavily.
Julian stepped backward.
I felt strangely calm.
Maybe my mind had reached a point where shock no longer registered normally.
“How long?”
I asked.
Sienna looked at me.
“How long did you know the embryo was mine?”
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
“Sienna.”
“Not at first.”
I almost smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because the lie was obvious.
“You expect me to believe you went through an embryo transfer without knowing whose embryo it was?”
“They told me it was donated.”
“They?”
“Marianne and Dr. Hale.”
Julian gripped the back of a chair.
“You told me we conceived naturally.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you got pregnant because Clara couldn’t.”
“I know.”
“You stood beside me while I told everyone that.”
“I know.”
His voice rose.
“You let me humiliate her ten minutes ago.”
Sienna finally looked at him.
“And you enjoyed humiliating her.”
That silenced him.
She continued.
“You don’t get to stand there and pretend you were some innocent husband dragged into this.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“I didn’t steal an embryo.”
“No.”
Sienna’s eyes filled again.
“You just cheated on your wife while she was going through fertility treatment.”
I looked at Julian.
There it was.
The confirmation I had never received directly.
I had always suspected.
I had seen the late messages.
The meetings that ran too long.
The way Sienna stopped looking me in the eye.
But Julian had denied it until the day the divorce became final.
Now neither of them denied anything.
“When did it start?”
My voice sounded distant.
Julian looked at me.
“Clara.”
“When?”
He glanced away.
“Five months before the divorce.”
I nodded.
Five months.
I had been injecting hormones into my stomach while my husband slept with my best friend.
I had called Sienna crying after appointments.
She had listened while lying to me.
“Were you already pregnant?”
I asked.
Sienna’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“So while you were comforting me after the doctor told me my embryos had failed…”
She cried harder.
“Yes.”
“You were carrying one of them.”
“I didn’t know then.”
“When did you know?”
She hesitated.
Julian saw it.
“So you did know.”
“Later.”
“When?”
“Four months into the pregnancy.”
My heart beat harder.
“How?”
Sienna looked toward Dr. Vance.
“Dr. Hale called me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said there had been a problem with the paperwork.”
“What problem?”
“He said the embryo had not been donated.”
Julian slammed his palm against the table.
The child startled.
I turned toward him immediately.
“Stop.”
He froze.
The child cried again.
Sienna stood.
“I need to take him outside.”
“No.”
The word left my mouth before I had decided to say it.
She stared at me.
I softened my voice.
“Please.”
She looked down at the boy.
Then back at me.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know his name.”
Julian’s expression changed.
Sienna’s did too.
For one year, they had raised my biological son.
And I did not even know what they had named him.
Sienna looked at him.
“Miles.”
Miles.
I repeated it silently.
Miles.
My son’s name was Miles.
“How old?”
“Thirteen months.”
“Birthday?”
“July seventeenth.”
My knees weakened.
July seventeenth.
The date hit me like a physical blow.
Julian noticed.
“What?”
I looked at him.
“July seventeenth was the day you told me you were filing for divorce.”
He stared.
Then turned to Sienna.
“No.”
She looked away.
“You gave birth that day?”
“Early that morning.”
Julian’s face drained of color.
“You told me he was born on the eighteenth.”
Sienna said nothing.
“Why?”
“Because Marianne said it would look suspicious.”
He laughed once.
An empty sound.
“My mother knew?”
“Yes.”
“She was there?”
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
Marianne had called me that afternoon.
I remembered the conversation perfectly.
She had sounded cold.
Almost bored.
“I heard Julian has finally come to his senses,” she had said.
Then she told me not to make the divorce ugly.
She had been standing inside a hospital where my biological child had just been born.
I gripped the table.
Dr. Vance noticed.
“Clara, sit down.”
I did.
Not because I wanted to.
Because my legs were shaking.
Sienna continued.
“Marianne told me Clara had signed over the embryos.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“When did you know?”
She looked at me.
“Four months into the pregnancy.”
“And you stayed silent.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her jaw tightened.
“Because by then I could feel him moving.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I loved him.”
“You loved my child.”
“I carried him.”
“After discovering he had been taken without my permission.”
Her voice broke.
“What did you expect me to do?”
“Tell me.”
Sienna stared.
I stood again.
“You had my number.”
“You knew where I lived.”
“You knew I spent months believing my body had failed.”
“You watched me lose my marriage.”
“You watched me lose my foundation.”
“You watched me disappear.”
“And every night, you went home and put your hand over a child created from my body.”
“So don’t ask what I expected you to do.”
“I expected you to tell the truth.”
Sienna looked down.
Miles reached for the pearl earring hanging from her ear.
The same earrings she used to admire in my house.
A strange thought came to me.
“What else did Marianne give you?”
Sienna looked up.
“What?”
“The house?”
“No.”
“The foundation?”
“That was Julian.”
“Money?”
Silence.
Julian turned toward her.
“What money?”
Sienna shifted.
“There was an account.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What account?”
“Marianne set up a trust.”
“For Miles?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Sienna didn’t answer.
Julian stepped closer.
“How much?”
“Three million.”
His face changed completely.
“You never told me.”
“She said it was for his education.”
“Three million dollars?”
“She wanted to protect him.”
“From what?”
Sienna whispered the answer.
“From Clara.”
I almost admired the cruelty.
Marianne had stolen my embryo.
Helped place it inside my best friend.
Watched her son divorce me.
Then created a trust to protect my own child from me.
Julian sank into a chair.
For the first time, he looked broken.
I felt no satisfaction.
Only exhaustion.
Dr. Vance opened another folder.
“There is something else you all need to understand.”
We turned toward her.
“The embryo transferred to Sienna was labeled C-17.”
I remembered the code.
Every couple received identifiers.
C for Cross.
Seventeen for retrieval date.
“C-17,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
Dr. Vance pointed to the archive.
“There were three embryos.”
“C-17A.”
“C-17B.”
“And C-17C.”
I stared at the page.
“A was destroyed?”
“Yes.”
“B became Miles?”
“Yes.”
My eyes moved to the third line.
C-17C.
Status.
RELEASED.
I frowned.
“What does released mean?”
Dr. Vance looked at me.
“That is the problem.”
Julian stood.
“What happened to the third embryo?”
“We don’t know.”
Sienna froze.
I looked at her.
She knew something.
I could see it.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Sienna.”
“I don’t know.”
“What did Marianne tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
She hugged Miles tighter.
“Sienna.”
Her eyes met mine.
For the first time that day, the fear in them was not for herself.
It was for me.
“After Miles was born, Marianne came to see me alone.”
My mouth went dry.
“She told me never to ask what happened to the other one.”
“The other embryo?”
Sienna nodded.
“What exactly did she say?”
Sienna closed her eyes.
Then repeated the words.
“She said, ‘One heir is enough for Julian.’”
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Dr. Vance.
She was already pulling another record from the file.
A shipping manifest.
My embryo had not been destroyed.
It had not remained at St. Jude’s.
It had been transferred to a private clinic in another state.
And beside the receiving signature was a date from almost two years earlier.
I stared at the destination.
Denver, Colorado.
Then I saw the patient identification number.
It was not Sienna’s.
Dr. Vance looked at me.
“If this record is accurate, Miles may not be the only biological child taken from you.”
May you like
And suddenly the nightmare became much larger than one stolen son.
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