The question was so earnest that Maria looked away.
“I will not leave tonight.”
Sophia studied my face, measuring the promise.
Then she nodded.
Maria took her hand.
“Come with me, cariño. We’ll make hot chocolate.”
“With marshmallows?”
“With two.”
Sophia looked back at me as Maria led her away.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget me.”
“I won’t.”
The words followed me into the foyer.
I instructed security to escort Dr. Keller to the library and to remain outside the door.
He entered five minutes later carrying a leather case, his once-black hair now almost entirely silver.
He looked older than I remembered.
He also looked afraid.
“Daniel,” he said.
“Dr. Keller.”
His gaze moved past me, searching the foyer.
“Is the child here?”
I said nothing.
He exhaled slowly.
“Then Claire’s recording survived.”
“How did you know about the recording?”
“Because I made the mistake of helping her create it.”
I led him into the library and closed the doors.
He did not sit.
Neither did I.
“Start at the beginning.”
Keller set the leather case on the desk.
“The clinic ran a private embryo-donation and surrogacy program for clients who needed absolute confidentiality. Most of it was legal. Some of it was poorly managed. A few members of the board began using the program to attract wealthy investors.”
“How?”
“They saw genetic material as an asset.”
The phrase made my stomach turn.
“Speak plainly.”
“Profiles were copied. Medical histories. Genetic testing. Family identities. Certain clients were approached with offers they never requested.”
“What kind of offers?”
“Selection services. Exclusive donor arrangements. Private matching.”
“People were buying access to embryos?”
“Not openly. But yes.”
“And Claire discovered this?”
“She found errors in your storage records after the first transfer. Your second embryo appeared under two inventory numbers.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Claire asked me not to. She believed someone was monitoring the clinic’s internal systems. She wanted the embryo moved before anyone learned she had noticed.”
“So you transferred it.”
“To a surrogate Claire selected.”
“Who?”
Keller hesitated.
“I cannot tell you.”
I stepped closer.
“You came to my house after three years and asked whether my child was here. You will tell me everything.”
“I came because someone accessed the old clinic archive this morning using Claire’s credentials.”
“Claire is dead.”
“I know.”
“Who used them?”
“That is what frightens me.”
He opened the leather case and withdrew several folders.
“The archive was disconnected from the clinic network after the investigation. Only three people knew how to reach it. Claire, Elena Alvarez, and me.”
“Elena has been missing for nearly three years.”
“Yes.”
I looked down at the folders.
“What is in those?”
“Transfer records. Chain-of-custody logs. Correspondence between Claire and the surrogate agency.”
“Why do you have them?”
“Because I kept copies after the clinic board ordered them destroyed.”
I opened the first folder.
Every page seemed to confirm part of the impossible truth.
