Chapter 7 - The Results in the Sealed Folder
Milk continued spreading across the hospital floor.
Melinda remained on her knees while Connor stared down at her.
“What weren’t you supposed to know?” he demanded.
Melinda reached for the fallen bottle.
A nurse quietly removed it from her hand.
“Stand up,” Connor said.
She did not move.
Dr. Mercer addressed him.
“Mr. Fleming, this conversation should take place privately.”
“No. She made a scene in front of everyone. Tell me what is in the folder.”
Kirsten stepped toward the waiting area.
“Lucas should not be surrounded by shouting.”
Harold immediately moved the stroller away from Connor.
Connor pointed at him.
“Do not take my son anywhere.”
Harold’s expression hardened.
“Lower your voice.”
Connor looked around.
Patients, nurses, and members of his company’s publicity team were watching.
His humiliation was becoming public.
He straightened his jacket.
“Fine. Let’s go into an office.”
They entered a consultation room beside the hallway.
Kirsten, Connor, Melinda, Harold, Dr. Mercer, and Naomi sat around a narrow table. Lucas remained in his stroller beside Harold.
Dr. Mercer placed the sealed folder in the center.
“The tests were conducted using a court-approved chain of custody,” he said. “The results have been independently confirmed by two laboratories.”
Connor looked at Melinda.
“Why were you afraid of genetic testing?”
“I was afraid Kirsten would manipulate it.”
Dr. Mercer continued.
“Dr. Sinclair had no access to the samples, laboratory staff, or analysis.”
Connor tapped the table impatiently.
“Am I Lucas’s father?”
Dr. Mercer opened the folder.
“No.”
Connor’s face became blank.
Melinda started crying.
“That’s impossible,” Connor said. “We used a donor, but legally—”
“You have publicly stated that Lucas was conceived naturally.”
“That was personal.”
“The genetic results establish that you have no biological relationship to the child.”
Connor turned to Melinda.
“You told me the doctors had been wrong about my diagnosis.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From embarrassment.”
He laughed once, bitterly.
“You told me he was mine.”
“He is yours in every way that matters.”
“That is what people say after they admit a child is not yours.”
Lucas stirred in the stroller.
Kirsten moved closer but stopped herself from touching him.
Connor noticed.
“What are you doing?”
Kirsten looked at Dr. Mercer.
He removed a second page.
“The results also establish that Ms. Price is not Lucas’s genetic mother.”
Connor’s chair scraped against the floor.
“What?”
Melinda covered her face.
Connor stared at her.
“You carried him.”
“Yes.”
“Then whose egg was used?”
No one answered immediately.
Connor’s eyes moved toward Kirsten.
For the first time, fear replaced anger.
“No,” he whispered.
Dr. Mercer placed the report on the table.
“Lucas has a 99.99 percent probability of being Dr. Kirsten Sinclair’s biological son.”
The room became completely silent.
Kirsten had prepared herself for the possibility.
Preparation did not matter.
She looked at the child.
Her child.
The final embryo had survived.
He had developed beneath Melinda’s heart, been delivered into Connor’s hands, and spent the first year of his life surrounded by people who had built their family from Kirsten’s stolen future.
Kirsten’s eyes filled with tears.
Connor stood so quickly that his chair fell backward.
“You donated the embryo,” he said.
“No,” Kirsten replied.
“Melinda showed me the consent.”
“It was forged.”
He looked at Melinda.
She shook her head frantically.
“She was going to destroy it.”
“I ordered the embryo transferred to another facility,” Kirsten said. “You knew that.”
“You didn’t deserve it!” Melinda screamed.
Lucas began crying.
Everyone froze.
Melinda turned toward the stroller, but Harold placed himself between them.
Kirsten’s voice remained low.
“Do not shout near him.”
Melinda’s expression twisted.
“You had everything. The career, the respect, the perfect family name. Connor wanted a child, and you treated him like another appointment.”
“I underwent two years of treatment.”
“You made him feel useless.”
“He lied about his diagnosis.”
“Because you would have left him!”
“No,” Kirsten said. “I left because he betrayed me.”
Connor looked at the transfer papers Dr. Mercer had placed on the table.
“I signed this.”
“Yes,” Naomi said. “The document clearly identifies the embryo as one created during your marriage to Dr. Sinclair.”
Connor shook his head.
“Melinda told me it was a clerical form.”
“You chose not to read it,” Kirsten said.
“I trusted her.”
Kirsten held his gaze.
May you like
“So did I.”
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