Richard agreed to meet us the following morning.
He chose a quiet hotel lobby far from the courthouse and the fertility clinic.
When he arrived, he looked nothing like the threatening figure I had imagined.
He was older than Julian, perhaps in his late fifties, with silver hair and a tired expression.
He sat across from me.
“I know how this looks.”
“It looks like my family has been hiding things from me for years.”
He nodded.
“That is fair.”
Daniel placed the documents on the table.
“You were listed as the intended recipient of a transferred embryo.”
Richard shook his head.
“I never intended to receive anything.”
“Then why was your name used?”
“I was asked to provide identification.”
“By whom?”
“Helga.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Why?”
“She said it was for a family medical matter.”
“You believed her?”
“I believed she was arranging something for Julian.”
“Did you know about Sophie?”
“No.”
“Did you know about the embryo?”
“Not at first.”
Richard looked down.
“Then I discovered what was happening.”
“What did you discover?”
“That the embryo belonged to you and Julian.”
I stared at him.
“How?”
“The facility contacted me.”
“Why?”
“Because my name had been used as an authorized contact.”
“By Helga?”
“Yes.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Did you authorize the storage transfer?”
“No.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“I signed a receipt.”
“What did you think you were receiving?”
“Medical records.”
I looked at Daniel.
He took notes.
Richard continued.
“I didn't know there was an embryo until later.”
“When?”
“When the facility called to ask about collection.”
“Who collected it?”
“I don't know.”
“But they used your father's name?”
“Yes.”
“My father's full name?”
“Yes.”
“Why would anyone have access to it?”
Richard hesitated.
“Helga.”
I felt cold.
“She used my father's identity?”
“I believe so.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Richard pulled an envelope from his coat.
“I kept this.”
Inside was a receipt.
The collection date was three months earlier.
The authorization line contained my father's name.
But the signature was not his.
It was another forged signature.
Daniel photographed it.
“Where did the embryo go?”
Richard looked at me.
“I don't know.”
“Then what did the facility tell you?”
“They said the person collecting it was authorized through a private reproductive agency.”
“Name?”
“Bennett Family Services.”
I frowned.
“Is that a real company?”
Richard nodded.
“It was registered six years ago.”
“By whom?”
He looked at Daniel.
“Julian.”
My stomach dropped.
Julian had created another company.
Daniel searched his records.
The company had no public office.
No employees listed.
Its bank account had received money from Klaus.
Its expenses included medical storage, legal fees and private transportation.
I stared at the screen.
“They built an entire company around this.”
“Yes.”
Richard looked uncomfortable.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of Helga?”
“Of all of them.”
I believed him.
That didn't make me less angry.
“Where did the embryo go?”
“I don't know.”
“Who would know?”
Richard thought.
“There was one name on the agency paperwork.”
“Who?”
He handed Daniel another page.
Dr. Ellison.
I stared at the name.
The retired fertility specialist.
The same man my father had told me to find.
Everything circled back.
Daniel called the number listed on the document.
It had been disconnected.
He searched old medical directories.
Nothing.
Then Richard spoke.
“I may know where he is.”
We looked at him.
“He owns a house in Maine.”
“Address?”
Richard gave it to us.
We drove the next morning.
The house stood at the edge of a wooded road.
No vehicles.
No lights.
Daniel knocked.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
Then an elderly man opened the door.
He looked at me.
For a moment, his expression changed.
“You're Claire.”
My heart stopped.
“How do you know me?”
He stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The house smelled of wood smoke and old paper.
Dr. Ellison sat near the fireplace.
“I have been waiting for this day.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because your father asked me to.”
My throat tightened.
“My father knew you?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Years.”
“Why didn't you contact me?”
“Because he told me not to unless you came looking.”
“Why?”
He looked toward Daniel.
“Because he suspected what Julian's family was doing.”
I sat down.
“Did you know about the embryo?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know it was transferred to Sophie?”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
“Were you involved?”
“No.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I preserved records.”
“What records?”
“Everything your husband tried to alter.”
My breathing changed.
“Why?”
“Your father asked me to.”
Dr. Ellison explained that my father had become suspicious after learning that Julian had requested access to my fertility records.
He had quietly asked Dr. Ellison to preserve copies.
When the transfer request appeared, Dr. Ellison had objected.
But someone higher in the clinic hierarchy had approved it.
He had been unable to stop the transfer.
“What about the missing embryo?”
Dr. Ellison looked at me.
“That embryo was never supposed to be moved.”
“Who moved it?”
“Julian.”
“Why?”
“He wanted a backup.”
I stared at him.
“A backup for what?”
“In case the first transfer failed.”
I closed my eyes.
He had planned multiple attempts.
But there was more.
Dr. Ellison continued.
“Your father discovered that Julian intended to create a child using your embryos and then use the child's inheritance rights to strengthen his control over your estate.”
I felt sick.
“How?”
“Through a legal arrangement.”
“What arrangement?”
“Your husband would become guardian and trustee.”
I looked at Daniel.
He nodded slowly.
“That would give him access to the child's inheritance.”
Dr. Ellison nodded.
“But your father prevented it.”
“How?”
“He amended the trust.”
“The amendment he never signed?”
“No.”
Dr. Ellison reached for a folder.
“This one.”
He handed Daniel a document.
It was an executed amendment.
Signed.
Not by my father.
By the trustee he had appointed.
The amendment had been activated before his death.
I read it.
My father had created a separate protected trust for any biological child of mine.
Julian could never control it.
He could not serve as sole trustee.
And if anyone attempted to use the child to obtain my inheritance, the trust would be placed under independent administration.
I looked at Daniel.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He protected the child before the child even existed.”
Dr. Ellison nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Your father also left something for you.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He handed me a small envelope.
My father's handwriting was on the front.
Claire.
I opened it.
The letter was short.
My daughter,
If you are reading this, then you have discovered something I hoped you would never need to discover.
Trust the records, not the explanations.
If someone tells you that your body failed you, ask who benefited from your believing it.
And if you ever have a child through the treatment we began, remember this:
That child is not a bargaining chip.
No one has the right to use your love as leverage.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
I cried.
Dr. Ellison looked away.
Daniel gave me time.
Then I asked the question that mattered.
“Where is the missing embryo?”
Dr. Ellison's expression became grave.
“I don't know.”
“Then why did my father leave this?”
“Because he believed someone would eventually try to use it.”
“Use it how?”
“I don't know.”
Daniel stood.
“Doctor, do you have any records showing where it was transferred?”
“Yes.”
He walked to a filing cabinet.
He returned with a sealed envelope.
The transfer record listed a destination.
A private reproductive laboratory.
The laboratory had closed.
Its records had been purchased by another company.
Daniel read the name.
Then looked at me.
“Bennett Family Services.”
The same company Julian had created.
I felt cold.
“So the embryo was moved into a company he controlled.”
“Yes.”
“Can he still access it?”
“Not legally.”
“But could he have?”
Dr. Ellison nodded.
“Yes.”
The realization struck me.
Julian had created the company before the first transfer.
He had moved the embryo into its custody.
Then he had arranged Sophie’s pregnancy.
The missing embryo had been kept as insurance.
But insurance against what?
On the drive back, Daniel received a message.
He read it twice.
“What?”
“The laboratory has been searched.”
“By whom?”
“Police.”
“Why?”
“They found evidence of recent access.”
My heart raced.
“Recent?”
“Within the last month.”
“By Julian?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
He looked at me.
“The access code belonged to Helga.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: Helga’s Access Code Had Been Used After the Embryo Was Supposedly Secured, and Her Next Move Put the Baby in Immediate Danger
The Toast My Husband Made in German Exposed a Secret He Never Expected His Wife to Understand
Part 11 of 26
