Sophia slid off the sofa and hurried toward the cabinet beneath the bookshelves. She opened the door and pulled out a small wooden keepsake box.
Maria’s face changed instantly.
“I put that away.”
Sophia hugged the box to her chest.
“She sings.”
Maria reached for it, but I raised a hand.
“Let her show me.”
Sophia returned to the sofa and placed the box between us. It was made of pale wood, worn at the corners. A tiny brass latch held the lid closed.
I recognized it before she opened it.
Claire had owned one exactly like it.
It had sat for years on her bedside table, holding old photographs, concert tickets, and the silver bracelet her mother gave her when she graduated from college.
After Claire died, I had packed that box myself.
It should have been in storage.
Sophia lifted the lid.
A soft melody began to play.
Claire’s favorite lullaby.
For a moment, I could not breathe.
Inside were several folded papers, a faded hospital bracelet, the clinic tag’s broken plastic sleeve, and a small digital recorder.
“The sleepy lady talks,” Sophia said.
Maria looked devastated.
“She must have heard it when I was in the laundry room. I thought the batteries were dead.”
Sophia reached inside and pressed a button.
Static filled the room.
Then Claire’s voice emerged.
Weak. Breathless. Unmistakable.
“If anyone finds this, please listen before you make a decision.”
I sank onto the sofa.
Every part of me went still.
The recording crackled.
“I don’t know how much time I have, and I don’t know who I can trust. Daniel thinks our second embryo is still at the clinic. I let him believe that because he had already lost so much.”
My name, spoken in Claire’s voice after three years of silence, broke something open inside me.
Maria sat down across from us.
Sophia leaned against my arm, watching the recorder with solemn curiosity.
Claire continued.
“The embryo was transferred before my second round of treatment. Not to me.”
A long pause followed, filled with shallow breathing.
“I signed the consent forms. I made the decision without telling Daniel.”
I closed my eyes.
Claire had never lied to me. At least, that was what I had believed.
“I asked someone I trusted to carry our child. It was not a simple choice. It was not made out of desperation alone. I wanted Daniel to have a family if I could not survive.”
The recording distorted for several seconds.
When her voice returned, it was softer.
“The surrogate’s identity must remain private until the baby is safe. There are people around the program who have already broken laws. I discovered too late that patient files were being copied and sold. Wealthy families. Genetic records. Embryo inventories. I don’t know how far it goes.”
Maria stared at me.
I barely saw her.
Claire’s next words seemed to come from a great distance.
