Chapter 11
“He told me I couldn’t have children on my own, but he could give me a family.”
I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
“He said the same thing to me.”
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then Paige looked up.
“Matty is my son.”
“I know.”
“I carried him. I gave birth to him. I’ve been there every day of his life.”
“I know.”
Her tears spilled over.
“You’re not going to take him away from me, are you?”
I shook my head.
“Paige, I’m not here to hurt you or Matty. I want to know what happened.”
She covered her face and cried.
Eventually, she agreed to cooperate with the investigation and discuss appropriate genetic testing with Rebecca and her own attorney.
I didn’t reach across the table and promise that everything would be fine.
Because I couldn’t.
All I could promise was that I would not punish a little boy for the actions of the adults who had deceived us.
The following week, the financial investigation accelerated.
Investigators obtained additional business records, including correspondence between Alistair and George.
The documents suggested that the investment arrangements had been designed to shift assets and liabilities in ways that concealed the actual financial position of Alistair’s company.
They also showed that Martha had been involved in preparing several of the disputed agreements.
The unauthorized transfer request from my bank became part of the investigation.
Meanwhile, the fertility clinic began conducting an internal review under legal supervision.
The former medical director was interviewed.
So were several employees who had worked there during our treatment.
I learned that someone had submitted an authorization to release one of our stored embryos into the clinic’s donation program.
The form carried my name.
And my forged signature.
Additional documents showed that Alistair had personally coordinated the transfer.
The clinic had not adequately verified my consent.
The realization left me sick.
My husband had taken something we had created together, something I had entrusted to medical professionals, and made decisions about it without me.
Yet there was one question that still haunted me.
Why?
Why would he tell me our embryos were gone, then arrange for another woman to carry a child through the same clinic?
I found the answer in a message recovered from his old business correspondence.
It was addressed to his mother.
“Paige wants a baby. Jacqueline keeps asking about trying again. This solves both problems, and I don’t have to spend another dollar on two separate treatments.”
I read the message three times.
May you like
Then I put my phone down.
For years, I had believed Alistair was comforting me through our shared grief.
