Chapter 2 - The Fertility Report They Buried
Ethan followed us into a private consultation room.
Madison tried to remain in the corridor, but Ethan turned sharply.
“Get inside.”
“I need to calm Noah.”
“You can calm him in here.”
Her jaw tightened.
Adrian closed the door after all of us entered.
The consultation room was small, with a rectangular table, six chairs, and a monitor mounted on the wall.
I sat beside Adrian.
Ethan remained standing.
Madison lowered herself into the chair farthest from us, clutching Noah against her chest.
Ethan pointed at the envelope.
“Open it.”
Adrian did not move.
“This report belongs to Claire.”
“She was my wife when those tests were performed.”
“And that does not give you ownership over her medical information.”
Ethan turned to me.
“Tell him to open it.”
I folded my hands on the table.
“You called me useless in a public hallway. Now you can ask properly.”
His nostrils flared.
“Claire.”
“That isn’t an apology.”
Madison shifted in her chair.
“Ethan, let’s just go.”
He ignored her.
“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “I apologize.”
“For what?”
“For embarrassing you.”
“You didn’t embarrass me. You tried to humiliate me.”
His face reddened.
“I apologize for humiliating you.”
“And for calling me useless?”
“Claire, this is childish.”
Adrian spoke quietly.
“Then leave.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You are not required to be here.”
Ethan’s palms struck the table.
“I want to see the report.”
I let the silence stretch before nodding.
“Show him.”
Adrian opened the envelope and removed several pages.
“Claire underwent three rounds of fertility treatment at St. Catherine’s satellite clinic,” he began. “Her original records indicated diminished ovarian reserve and repeated implantation failure.”
“That’s what every doctor told us,” Ethan said.
“No. That is what one doctor’s altered summary claimed.”
Madison’s breathing became shallow.
Adrian placed two documents beside each other.
“The original bloodwork was located in the hospital archive. Claire’s hormone levels were normal. Her ovarian reserve was normal. Her imaging showed no uterine abnormality.”
Ethan frowned.
“That doesn’t prove she could become pregnant.”
“No single test guarantees pregnancy,” Adrian said. “But it proves she was not the cause your embryos repeatedly failed.”
Ethan sat slowly.
“Our embryos?”
“Yes.”
Adrian turned another page.
“During your second cycle, the laboratory documented severe male-factor infertility.”
Ethan stared at the paper.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your sperm count was extremely low. Motility was poor, and genetic testing found abnormalities that made natural conception highly unlikely.”
Madison stopped rocking Noah.
Ethan’s face went blank.
“No.”
“The sample was tested twice.”
“That isn’t possible.”
“It is documented.”
Ethan shook his head.
“I have a son.”
No one answered.
He looked at Noah.
Then at Madison.
“I have a son,” he repeated.
Madison stood abruptly.
“I need to change him.”
Ethan blocked her path.
“Sit down.”
“Move.”
“Sit down, Madison.”
Noah cried louder.
She pressed the child against her shoulder.
“You’re frightening him.”
“Then answer me. How did I have a son if I was infertile?”
Adrian lifted one hand.
“Infertility is not the same as absolute sterility. Conception can still occur in rare cases.”
Ethan exhaled.
“There. You see?”
“But there is more,” Adrian continued.
Madison’s knees seemed to weaken.
I watched her grip the back of the chair.
Ethan noticed.
“What more?”
Adrian placed the final page on the table.
“The sample labeled as yours during Claire’s third treatment cycle was not genetically consistent with the sample from your first two cycles.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed.
“In English.”
“Someone substituted a sample.”
The room went completely still.
I remembered the third cycle clearly.
Madison had driven me to the clinic because Ethan claimed he had an emergency meeting.
She had held my hand in the waiting room.
She had told me everything would work this time.
Three days after the procedure, the clinic called and said the embryo development had failed.
A week later, Ethan began sleeping in the guest room.
“Who could switch a sample?” Ethan asked.
“Someone with access,” Adrian replied. “A staff member, a physician, or someone working with them.”
Ethan turned toward Madison.
She looked down at Noah’s hair.
“Why are you looking at me?” she whispered.
“Because you dropped a bottle the moment he arrived.”
“I was surprised.”
“You asked why he was here before anyone introduced him.”
“I recognized him from the hospital website.”
“Madison.”
“I don’t know anything about laboratory samples.”
I leaned forward.
“Do you remember Dr. Victor Hale?”
Her head snapped toward me.
Ethan looked confused.
“Who is Victor Hale?”
“The physician who supervised our final fertility cycle,” I said. “He resigned two months after our divorce.”
Madison’s lips parted.
“He moved to California.”
“No,” Adrian said. “He was dismissed after the hospital discovered unauthorized changes in several patient files.”
Ethan stared at Madison.
“How do you know where he moved?”
She said nothing.
He stepped closer.
“How do you know?”
Madison’s voice broke.
“He was my doctor once.”
Adrian watched her carefully.
“For what?”
“That’s private.”
Ethan laughed once, without humor.
“You don’t get privacy now.”
She looked at me.
“Claire, tell him to stop.”
I rose from my chair.
“You stood beside him while he called me defective. You helped him take my home. You testified that I was unstable.”
“I was protecting him.”
“From what?”
Madison’s eyes filled with tears.
“From what you would have done if you knew the truth.”
Ethan went still.
“What truth?”
She looked at Noah.
Then at the door.
I stepped between her and the exit.
“You’re not leaving until you answer him.”
Madison swallowed.
“The truth,” she whispered, “that Claire was never the problem.”
Ethan grabbed the edge of the table.
“You knew?”
Madison began crying.
“I didn’t know at first.”
“How long?”
She shook her head.
“How long, Madison?”
“Before the third treatment.”
Ethan staggered backward as though she had struck him.
“You knew I was infertile before you slept with me?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Noah cried against her shoulder.
Ethan stared at the child.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Is he mine?”
Madison did not answer.
May you like
That silence was the first crack in their perfect family.
The DNA test would finish the destruction.
