Chapter 8 - THE NAME IN THE FILE
“Daniel Carter?”
I repeated the name.
The nurse said yes.
Graham looked at me.
“That's not Daniel's last name.”
“I know.”
The nurse sounded confused.
“That's what's listed.”
“Send me a copy.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the file disappeared.”
My heart dropped.
Graham took the phone.
“Who has access?”
“Only four people.”
“Names.”
The nurse hesitated.
Graham's voice became firm.
“Now.”
She gave him the names.
The doctor.
The ultrasound technician.
The hospital administrator.
And a fertility specialist named Dr. Martin Vale.
My stomach tightened.
The same doctor who had diagnosed me three years earlier.
“He's still practicing?” I asked.
“No,” the nurse said.
“He retired two years ago.”
Graham ended the call.
Nobody spoke.
Then Daniel stepped forward.
“I'm not Carter.”
“I know.”
“My father's name was Carter.”
“Why is he in my medical file?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Victor suddenly looked at Rebecca.
“Carter.”
Rebecca's expression changed.
“You know that name?”
“It was one of the investors.”
Graham stood.
“What investor?”
“Thomas Carter.”
Daniel went pale.
“My grandfather.”
I looked at him.
“Your family was involved?”
“My grandfather was.”
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“My father spent his life trying to distance himself from him.”
That was another piece.
Another family.
Another connection I had never seen.
Then Rebecca said something quietly.
“Project Orchard wasn't run by one family.”
She placed the photographs on the table.
“It was a consortium.”
Whitmore.
Carter.
Hale.
And two others.
One name was circled.
MERCER BIOLOGICAL RESEARCH.
I stared at it.
“What is Mercer?”
Victor answered.
“A private laboratory.”
“Does it still exist?”
“No.”
“Then why is it on my file?”
No one answered.
Graham looked at the necklace.
The pendant.
The number 31.
Then he turned it over.
There was a tiny seam I hadn't noticed.
He pressed it.
The back opened.
Inside was a miniature strip of paper.
I unfolded it.
There were only four words.
FIND THE OTHER MOTHER.
I looked at Rebecca.
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“We never knew.”
Daniel looked at the baby photograph.
“The woman who carried Subject 32.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Rebecca said, “Dead.”
The answer came too quickly.
I studied her face.
“You're lying.”
She looked at me.
“I'm protecting someone.”
“Who?”
Before she could answer, Victor pulled out another photograph.
This one showed a woman leaving a Chicago train station.
She was wearing a dark wool coat.
The same style my mother had worn.
But this woman wasn't my mother.
I stared.
“Who is that?”
Victor turned the photograph around.
On the back:
SUBJECT 32'S MOTHER.
Then another line.
ALIVE — MADISON, WISCONSIN.
Graham looked at me.
“We're going.”
We drove north before sunrise.
The woman lived in a modest house near a lake.
She was sixty-one.
Her name was Anna Mercer.
She opened the door.
The moment she saw the necklace around my neck, she began to cry.
“You're Claire.”
“Yes.”
“I've been waiting for you.”
“For what?”
“To tell you the truth.”
She invited us inside.
On the wall were photographs of a little girl.
Always from behind.
Never a clear face.
“She is Subject 32?”
Anna nodded.
“Her name is Emily.”
“Where is she?”
Anna's eyes filled.
“She doesn't know who she is.”
I felt a chill.
“What do you mean?”
“I gave her another name.”
“Why?”
“Because people were looking for her.”
Graham asked, “Who?”
Anna looked at him.
“Your father.”
Graham stiffened.
“My father wanted to find her?”
“No.”
Anna shook her head.
“Your father wanted to protect her.”
That phrase again.
Protect.
Everyone seemed to use it.
But protection had cost me years of truth.
“Where is Emily?”
Anna hesitated.
“She lives in Chicago.”
My heart stopped.
“Doing what?”
“She works at a children's hospital.”
Graham stared at her.
“What's her name?”
Anna looked at me.
“Emily Bennett.”
My surname.
My family name.
I couldn't breathe.
“Bennett?”
“Your mother helped me give her a new identity.”
I sat down.
A sister.
I had spent my entire life believing I was an only child.
Anna reached into a drawer.
She removed a child's drawing.
Two girls holding hands.
One had the letter C.
The other had E.
On the back:
FOR THE SISTERS WHO WILL FIND EACH OTHER.
I touched the paper.
“Did my mother know?”
“She knew.”
“Then why did she keep Emily from me?”
“Because someone wanted both girls.”
“Why?”
Anna looked at Graham.
“Because together, your genetic profiles were the missing key to Project Orchard.”
Graham's voice hardened.
“What does that mean?”
“Your father discovered that the program wasn't designed merely to create children.”
Anna's eyes met mine.
“It was designed to reproduce a specific combination of traits.”
I looked at my stomach.
“Mine and Graham's?”
Anna nodded.
“But your pregnancy wasn't supposed to happen.”
“Why?”
“Because Graham was sterilized.”
The room went silent.
“He wasn't infertile naturally.”
I looked at Graham.
His face was devastated.
“He was deliberately made infertile when he was nineteen.”
“By whom?”
Anna's voice dropped.
“His father.”
Graham looked as though someone had struck him.
“Why would he do that?”
“To stop the investors from using you.”
Then Anna handed me one final photograph.
A young Graham.
Nineteen years old.
Standing beside his father.
And between them was a doctor.
Dr. Martin Vale.
On the back:
HE CHANGED THE PROCEDURE YEARS LATER.
I looked at Graham.
“Changed what?”
Anna's answer was barely audible.
“Your husband wasn't supposed to become fertile again.”
Then she looked at me.
“But someone reversed the procedure.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
Anna pointed at the photograph.
“Your doctor.”
Dr. Vale.
The man who had told me I couldn't have children.
The man who had treated Graham.
The man who knew both our histories.
And suddenly I understood the biggest question.
If he had reversed Graham's procedure before our wedding…
May you like
Then our twins were not an accident.
They were planned.
