Any use of the stored embryos required documented consent from both genetic contributors.
Neither party could authorize transfer unilaterally.
Lauren had signed storage renewals during the marriage.
She had signed treatment plans.
She had signed forms acknowledging risks.
She had never signed permission for Kendra Lane to carry one of her embryos.
Robert continued.
“The transfer took place two weeks after Mr.
Caldwell filed for divorce.
The consent form in the file is dated three days before the procedure.”
Lauren felt something cold move through her chest.
She knew the date of the transfer.
She had not known the exact date on the supposed consent form.
She remembered that day immediately.
She had been three states away visiting her sister after Travis told her he needed space.
Her attorney had already obtained travel receipts and electronic records confirming it.
Patricia apparently understood the problem too.
“That proves nothing,” she said.
Robert gave her a level look.
“It proves Mrs.
Whitaker was not sitting in this clinic signing the document in front of a witness, as the form represents.”
The clinic director shut his eyes for half a second.
Lauren noticed.
“So the witness signature is false too?” she asked.
“We are examining that,” Robert said.
Patricia turned on the director.
“You people made a mistake.
That has nothing to do with my son.”
Robert slipped the paper back into the folder.
“We have not reached a final conclusion about responsibility.”
The sentence should have reassured Patricia.
Instead, she gripped her handbag harder.
Lauren saw it.
So did Robert.
He had the patient stillness of a man who learned more from what people did between questions than from the answers themselves.
The clinic director asked whether they could continue in a conference room.
Robert agreed.
Lauren rose with her folder.
Patricia remained standing beside the chair.
“You’re not seriously including her,” Patricia said.
Lauren almost smiled at the word her.
For years Patricia had treated her like an inconvenient guest in her own marriage.
Now she was attempting the same trick in an investigation centered on Lauren’s body, Lauren’s genetic material, and Lauren’s missing signature.
Robert answered before Lauren could.
“Mrs.
Whitaker is the complaining party and a genetic contributor.
Yes, she is included.”
They moved into a small conference room off the administrative corridor.
Lauren’s attorney was already there, seated beside a legal pad.
He rose when she entered and pulled out the chair next to him.
Patricia stopped in the doorway.
“You invited a lawyer?”
Lauren sat down.
“I learned to bring one when your family is involved.”
It was the sharpest thing she had said all morning.
Patricia flinched as though Lauren had raised her voice.
