Chapter 6 - The Secret in the Medical Records|
I returned to the hospital carrying the flash drive and the fertility records.
Ethan was awake when I entered his room. His face brightened with relief until he saw the documents in my hand.
“What did you find?”
I placed the papers on his bed.
“Explain these.”
He stared at the fertility clinic logo.
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
“Eight months ago,” I said, “you were visiting a fertility clinic while telling me you were too busy to discuss having children.”
“I wasn't trying to have a child with Vanessa.”
“Then why were you there?”
He looked toward Marcus, who stood by the door.
“Leave us.”
Marcus hesitated.
“Now.”
When the door closed, Ethan took a slow breath.
“After your miscarriage, I learned that someone had accessed our medical records. They knew your treatment history, your appointments, and details we had never shared with anyone.”
“So you went to a fertility clinic?”
“I wanted to know whether someone had used our information to create a false pregnancy claim or manipulate a medical record.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I was afraid you'd become a target.”
I stared at him.
“You decided that lying to me was safer than letting me make my own decisions.”
“I thought I could handle it.”
“You thought you could handle everything.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I was wrong.”
I wanted to believe the apology. I also wanted to throw every monitor in the room at him.
Instead, I opened the records.
One page listed a genetic screening test requested under Ethan's name. Another showed that a sample had been transferred to a private laboratory owned by a company linked to Richard.
The final page was dated six months earlier.
Paternity verification—restricted access.
My hands went cold.
“Whose paternity was tested?”
Ethan looked genuinely confused.
“I don't know.”
“Your name is on the file.”
“I never authorized this.”
I called the laboratory using the number on the document. After verifying my credentials as a physician, I was transferred to a supervisor who confirmed that the file existed but could not disclose the result without additional authorization.
Before I could ask more, my phone rang.
It was Vanessa.
“Claire, someone came to my room,” she whispered. “He said he was a hospital administrator. He asked me to sign papers giving Ethan's family control over my baby's medical decisions.”
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“Good. Don't sign anything without an independent attorney.”
She began to cry.
“I know you hate me.”
“I don't know you well enough to hate you.”
“I helped him lie to you.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I thought he loved me.”
I closed my eyes.
“So did I.”
After the call ended, Ethan reached for my hand. I moved away.
“I need the truth, Ethan. Not another promise.”
He nodded.
“I'll get it.”
“No. We will get it.”
May you like
I held up the paternity report.
“Because if someone is using unborn children to control this family, I want to know why.”
