He never mentioned the settlement large enough to finance the lawyers who buried me.
“You did not keep me away because you thought I was unfit,” I said.
Graham said nothing.
“You kept me away because you thought I might discover what you had done.”
“I was afraid.”
“So was I.
Every day for two years.”
A knock sounded at the consultation-room door.
A nurse entered and whispered to Dr.
Whitman that Sophie was awake and asking for her father.
Then she added, “She also heard that her mother is here.”
My breath caught.
Graham stood immediately.
“She means me and Emma.
She’s confused.”
The nurse looked directly at me.
“She asked whether Sarah had come.”
My knees nearly gave way.
Graham moved toward the door, but Dr.
Whitman stopped him.
“Before either of you enters, we need to address Sophie’s medical care.
The donor search cannot wait, and these results materially change where we look.”
She explained that Emma was not a suitable match.
Neither was Graham.
My samples could not help because I was not biologically related to Sophie.
The hospital needed access to every record from the original investigation, including any information identifying the family connected to the other newborn.
Graham shook his head.
“Those files are sealed.”
“A child’s life is at risk,” Dr.
Whitman said.
“Confidentiality agreements do not prevent necessary medical disclosure.”
“I need to call my attorney.”
“You may call anyone you choose,” she replied.
“But the hospital’s legal and ethics teams have already been notified.”
The control drained from his face again.
For years, Graham had relied on rooms where he was the calmest person present.
Courtrooms.
Mediation offices.
School meetings.
He spoke softly, dressed carefully, and waited for everyone else to look emotional.
Now the calmest person in the room was the doctor holding evidence he could not reshape.
I took my phone from my purse and placed it on the counter.
“I want everything preserved,” I said.
“The tests, the collection records, the timestamps, and anything he provides.”
Dr.
Whitman nodded.
“They will be.”
Graham stared at me.
“You’re going to use this against me while Sophie has cancer?”
“No,” I said.
“I am going to use the truth to help Sophie.
What it does to you is no longer my responsibility.”
He looked away first.
The nurse led me to Sophie’s room alone.
I stopped outside the door with my hand above the handle.
Through the narrow window, I saw her in the hospital bed beneath a pale blanket.
