Chapter 5 - The Message Claire Never Meant Me to See
Her name was Rebecca.
At least, that was the name I remembered.
My mother stopped saying it after the funeral.
There had been no body.
I was six and accepted whatever adults told me.
An accident.
A river.
Gone.
I called my mother.
“Is Rebecca alive?”
Silence.
Then the line disconnected.
I called again.
No answer.
That was answer enough.
Claire finally returned my call after midnight.
“Did you meet my sister?”
Another silence.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She contacted me.”
“How?”
“She knew I had access to medical records.”
“What did she want?”
“Your records.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Everyone wanted my records except me.
“Why?”
“She believed something happened to you at that fertility clinic.”
“And you helped her?”
“At first.”
“Then you slept with Damon.”
Claire began crying.
“Those were separate mistakes.”
“Don't insult me.”
“I’m not.”
“Why did Rebecca use Victoria’s code?”
“I don't know.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. But it's true.”
Then Claire said, “There’s something I need to send you.”
My phone chimed.
A screenshot.
A message Rebecca had sent Claire months earlier.
DO NOT LET DAMON DISCOVER WHOSE EMBRYO WAS USED. IF HE FINDS OUT, VICTORIA WILL DESTROY THE RECORDS.
I reread it.
“Whose embryo?”
“I don't know.”
“Claire.”
“I swear.”
I wanted to believe nothing she said.
But fear sounded different from lying.
And Claire was afraid.
The next morning, I drove to my mother's house.
She opened the door and immediately began crying.
“Rebecca is alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you tell me she died?”
“Because I thought that was the only way to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Your father.”
My father had been dead eight years.
I had worshiped him.
Mom sat at the kitchen table.
“Rebecca discovered something about him.”
“What?”
“He had another family.”
That was painful.
But not enough to explain twenty-eight years.
“Keep going.”
“He also discovered Rebecca wasn't biologically his.”
I stared at her.
Mom covered her face.
“I had an affair.”
“Who was Rebecca’s father?”
“A man named Richard Vale.”
The name meant nothing.
Until Mom added:
“Victoria Carter’s brother.”
I stood.
“No.”
“Evelyn—”
“Rebecca is Damon’s cousin?”
“Yes.”
My head spun.
“Why did she come back now?”
“Because Richard died last year. He left her information.”
“What information?”
“About the fertility company.”
I remembered Rebecca’s message.
Whose embryo was used.
“Did Rebecca have embryos stored there?”
Mom looked confused.
“I don't know.”
My phone rang.
Independent laboratory.
My legitimate prenatal DNA results were ready.
I drove there alone.
The genetic counselor placed the report in front of me.
Damon was the biological father.
99.99%.
I laughed.
Then cried.
Relief and grief arrived together.
My daughter was Damon's.
But that changed nothing about what he had done.
When I stepped outside, Owen was waiting.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Claire.”
I almost turned around.
“Wait.”
He handed me her second phone.
“She gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“She said you needed it.”
I opened the messages.
Months of conversations with Damon.
Affair.
Apologies.
Arguments.
Then something changed six weeks earlier.
Claire: We have to stop.
Damon: Because of Owen?
Claire: Because of Evelyn.
Damon: Little late for morals.
Claire: This isn't about us. I found the procedure record.
Damon: What procedure?
Claire: Ask your mother what happened to Evelyn two years ago.
I scrolled.
Then I found a voice recording.
Claire had recorded Damon.
His voice filled my car.
“If my mother did this, I'll burn the company to the ground.”
Claire answered, “Then tell Evelyn.”
“I can't until I know whether her baby is mine.”
“You think she cheated?”
“No. I think someone manipulated her fertility treatment again.”
Again.
That word chilled me.
Then another message appeared.
Not Damon.
Rebecca.
She had written Claire only hours earlier.
EVELYN IS IN DANGER. THE EMBRYO WAS NEVER MEANT FOR HER.
A second message followed.
I KNOW WHO ORDERED THE TRANSFER.
Then a third.
MEET ME TONIGHT. COME ALONE.
Claire had replied:
WHERE?
Rebecca sent an address.
I recognized it.
The abandoned fertility clinic.
Then my phone rang.
Claire.
I answered.
Her breathing was fast.
“Evelyn, don't come looking for me.”
“Where are you?”
“I made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“I went to meet Rebecca.”
A loud metallic sound echoed behind her.
“Claire?”
“She isn't here.”
“Then leave.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Her voice dropped.
“Because someone locked the door behind me.”
Then I heard footsteps approaching her.
Claire whispered one final sentence.
May you like
“Evelyn, someone else is inside.”
The call went dead.
