Chapter 4 - The Second Embryo
A soft sound came from the doorway. Lily stood there in her pajamas, clutching the one-eared rabbit.
Rosa turned fast. "You were supposed to stay in the kitchen."
"I heard the music."
"What music?"
Lily pointed at the wooden box. The lullaby had started again, though no one had touched the lid. Rosa set it on the desk. The tune slowed, warped, stopped. A click sounded beneath the velvet lining. A narrow compartment slid open.
Inside was a photograph. I picked it up. Vivian stood in a garden, thinner than I remembered, a scarf over her hair. Beside her stood Camila. Between them, a third woman, visibly pregnant, her face turned partly from the camera. Something about the way she held herself felt familiar. Not her features. Her posture. The slight tilt of her head.
I turned the photo over. Vivian had written three names.
Vivian. Camila. Renata.
Below them: Marcus must never know Renata's real name until she chooses to tell him herself.
Lily climbed onto the chair beside me and pointed at the photo. "That's the sleepy lady," she said, touching Vivian. Her finger moved to Camila. "That's Aunt Cami." Finally, the pregnant woman. "And that's the lady who came to see Mommy."
Rosa froze. "What lady?"
"The lady from yesterday."
Every adult in the room went still.
Rosa crouched in front of her. "Sophia — Lily. What are you talking about?"
"The lady with the red coat."
"Where did you see her?"
"Outside. In the garden. She knew my song."
Maria's eyes widened. "You never told me this."
"You were talking on the phone."
"What did she say to you?"
Lily hugged the rabbit. "She said Daddy was coming home."
My pulse thundered. "Did she tell you to call me Daddy?"
Lily nodded. "She said you might forget at first."
I looked at the photograph again — the pregnant woman, her face still partly hidden.
Bell leaned in to examine it. "I never saw the surrogate in person. Camila handled all contact after the transfer."
Rosa stood. "Security would have seen anyone enter the property."
I hit the intercom. "Pull all exterior footage from yesterday. Garden, gates, service entrance. Everything."
A pause. Then the head of security. "Sir, yesterday's recordings are missing."
I closed my eyes. "Missing how?"
"The system shows a scheduled maintenance reset. None was authorized."
Lily tugged my sleeve. "The lady left something."
"What did she leave?"
"A present."
"Where?"
She slipped her hand into her pajama pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Rosa looked stunned. I took it carefully.
A receipt from a storage facility in Glendale. A unit number circled. On the back, in blue ink: Ask Marcus about the first embryo.
I read it again. The first embryo. The one Vivian had carried. The one we'd been told was lost when her pregnancy ended.
Bell took a step back. "No," he whispered.
"What?"
He shook his head, but his face had already given too much away.
"What do you know?"
"The pathology report," he said.
"What pathology report?"
"After Vivian's procedure, the clinic was supposed to receive confirmation that the pregnancy tissue had been tested."
My throat tightened. "Supposed to?"
"We never received it."
"You told us the pregnancy was over."
"It was. The ultrasound confirmed there was no longer a viable pregnancy."
"That's not what I asked."
His voice dropped. "The hospital reported the sample had been transferred to an outside laboratory. At Vivian's request."
"Which laboratory?"
"I never found out."
Rosa pressed her fingers to her mouth.
I looked at Lily, then Vivian's photograph, then the note in my hand. Two embryos had been created. One transferred into Vivian. One supposedly kept frozen. But Lily was biologically mine, not biologically Vivian's. And someone wanted me to ask about the first embryo.
A cold understanding was forming, still too incomplete to name.
Bell closed the file. "Marcus, before you go to that storage unit, there's one more thing you need to see."
He drew out a final envelope. Sealed. My name written across the front in Vivian's handwriting. Not Marcus. Not Mr. Wren.
My love.
I couldn't move.
"Where did you get this?"
"It appeared in the clinic archive this morning," he said. "Along with the message."
"That's a physical envelope."
"A courier delivered it to me an hour later."
"From whom?"
"No return address."
I broke the seal. A single sheet inside.
My love,
If you are reading this, Lily has found you.
Do not decide who her mother is until you know what happened to both embryos.
Trust Rosa. Forgive Camila if you can.
And when you open Unit 214, do not go alone.
There are two children in this story, Marcus. You were only told to mourn one.
My hands began to shake. Beneath the signature, in darker ink, someone had added a line:
I am ready to tell you my real name.
May you like
Outside the library windows, a figure in a red coat stood at the edge of the garden.
Watching us.
