“No.”
“Had embryos frozen?”
“Never.”
He looked at Michael.
My husband wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Then the doctor handed me a preliminary lab report.
Lucy wasn’t biologically related to Michael.
But beside my name were the words, “Parent-child match: 99.9%.”
I almost laughed.
“That’s impossible. I’m 51.”
Suddenly, someone began pounding on the door.
The pounding was so violent that I jumped.
One of the security officers immediately moved in front of me.
The doctor opened the door only a few inches.
A woman stood outside.
She looked to be in her early 70s.
Her hair was completely white, and she was crying so hard she could barely speak.
“Where is she?”
The doctor stepped into the hallway.
“Ma’am, you need to calm down.”
“Where is my granddaughter?”
Michael stood up so quickly his chair scraped across the floor.
I looked at him.
He looked at the woman.
And something in his face told me he knew exactly who she was.
