Instead, they called and told us we had a perfectly healthy, highly viable embryo ready for implantation. I felt the blood drain entirely from my face. A cold, sharp dread crept up my spine that had absolutely nothing to do with Derek’s financial ruin or his fake cheating accusations. I had remained absolutely, unquestionably faithful to my husband.
I had never touched another man. I carried that child for nine months. I endured the pain of childbirth. I knew with absolute certainty that I was her mother.
But if Derek was physically incapable of being the father, and I had exclusively used the fertility clinic to conceive her. I turned back to DeAndre. The room was spinning, but my voice came out with the deadly, quiet precision of a soldier staring into an abyss. DeAndre, I whispered, the horrific reality of my situation finally locking into place.
If Derek is completely sterile, whose sperm did that clinic put inside my body. DeAndre stared at me, his sharp eyes reflecting the same horrific realization chilling my blood. He was a man who chased missing millions, not missing genetics. I did not wait for him to articulate the sick, twisted permutations of what this meant.
I grabbed my tactical bag and secured Lily in her portable carrier. The only way to combat a fabricated medical document from a lying husband was with an unimpeachable, federally authenticated one. I instructed DeAndre to keep tracking Derek’s offshore shell accounts and to lock down any digital alerts my husband might have set up. I had a biological mystery to solve, and I needed military grade resources to do it.
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