“What kind of record?”
“Your original embryo inventory.”
I frowned.
“I’ve seen that.”
“No.
You saw the version Greenhaven gave you.”
I sat down.
Rachel continued.
“The clinic falsified part of it after discovering the switch.”
“What part?”
“You were told three embryos developed.”
“Yes.”
“One failed implantation.
One became Caleb—or we thought it did.
One stopped developing.”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t true.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“How many were there?”
“Four.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Four viable embryos.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Where is the fourth?”
“That’s what investigators wanted to know.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“And?”
“It was frozen.”
“For seven years?”
“Longer.”
“Where is it now?”
A long silence.
“Still in storage.”
I felt dizzy.
“Our embryo?”
“Yes.”
“Mine and Darius’s?”
“Yes.”
I thought immediately of Leah.
Of the daughter genetically connected to us because Simone had stolen the embryo meant for my body.
