Chapter 3: Seventeen Families
Rachel read the message twice.
Then she set her phone face-up on the table so Grant could see it.
He leaned in.
His lips moved slightly as he read.
When he reached the end, he straightened up and said nothing for a long moment.
"Seventeen families," Rachel said.
"Seventeen, Grant."
"We don't know what that means yet."
"It means we weren't the only ones who trusted him.
It means he did this more than once."
Evelyn was still facing the window.
Her shoulders hadn't moved.
Rachel walked around the table until she was standing where Evelyn could not avoid her reflection in the glass.
"When did you first meet Adrian Vale?"
Evelyn's reflection blinked.
"I don't see how that's relevant."
"The photograph says it's relevant.
The DNA says it's relevant.
Seventeen other families say it's relevant."
"Rachel." Grant's voice carried a warning.
"No." Rachel turned to face him directly.
"You don't get to tell me to stop again.
Not today.
Not after what you said about Maddie in front of everyone."
Grant looked at the floor.
"She called you Daddy this morning," Rachel said.
"Before any of this happened.
She brought you her shoes because she can't do the left buckle yet.
Do you remember that?"
He didn't answer.
"She's four years old, Grant.
She doesn't know what you said.
But I do."
Evelyn turned from the window.
Her composure had returned, smooth and deliberate, the way Rachel had seen her compose herself at funerals and board meetings and every moment that required her to feel nothing in public.
"Adrian Vale was a colleague of my late husband's," Evelyn said.
"They worked together briefly in the early nineties.
I hadn't seen him in years before I recommended the clinic."
"But you did recommend him specifically."
"I recommended the clinic.
He happened to be the physician assigned."
"That's not what I asked."
Evelyn's chin lifted slightly.
"I don't appreciate your tone."
"I don't appreciate what was done to my daughter."
The word landed.
Evelyn's chin stayed up, but something behind her eyes shifted.
Rachel pressed forward.
"The patient advocate said the investigation involves unauthorized use of donor material.
Do you know what that means in plain language?"
"I'm not a medical professional."
"It means the donor we chose was not the donor used.
It means someone in that clinic made a decision that wasn't theirs to make.
And it means whoever recommended that clinic to vulnerable couples knew exactly what kind of place it was."
"That is an extraordinary accusation."
"It's an extraordinary situation."
Grant moved between them.
"Rachel, we need to slow down.
We need a lawyer before we say anything else."
"You need a lawyer," Rachel said.
"I need to know who my daughter's biological father is.
Those are two very different problems."
She picked up her phone and opened the DNA results again.
Twenty-three matches.
She had looked at the list a dozen times since the message arrived, searching for a name she recognized.
She found it now.
She hadn't seen it before because she hadn't known to look for it.
The name was Bennett.
Not Grant.
A different Bennett.
A first name she didn't recognize.
She looked up at Evelyn.
"Who is Thomas Bennett?"
Evelyn's composure didn't crack.
It dissolved.
Her hand found the back of the nearest chair, and she held it the way a person holds something when their legs are deciding whether to keep working.
Grant frowned.
"Mom?
Who is Thomas Bennett?"
Evelyn sat down.
May you like
She didn't answer.
But her silence was the loudest thing in the room.
