Chapter 14
The recording destroyed Glen’s claim that he believed the embryo was unquestionably ours.
He knew uncertainty existed before the pool party.
Whether he knew the specific embryo belonged to another patient remained unclear, but he understood that records were being manipulated to define parentage after the fact.
His attorney withdrew from representing him in the criminal investigation, citing professional obligations and unspecified conflicts. A new defense team advised Glen to stop speaking publicly.
Prosecutors presented evidence to a grand jury.
The process was secret. We were not told what charges were considered or when decisions would come.
Civil court moved separately.
Rebecca sought an injunction preventing Glen, Clara’s company, Blue Heron, and related entities from transferring disputed funds. The judge froze specific accounts supported by evidence but refused to freeze all of Glen’s assets.
“That would be punitive before trial,” the judge explained.
It was another result that felt incomplete but legally sound.
The court preserved enough money to address potential judgments without pretending guilt had already been decided.
Bennett Harbor Logistics terminated Glen for violations of financial controls. The company reserved the right to pursue repayment.
The family trust suspended consideration of his petition for additional voting rights.
It did not disinherit him.
Trustees could not invent punishment outside the document.
Raymond remained under investigation by the company’s independent committee regarding the lakefront property sale. Glen’s warning about him had not been entirely false.
Villains did not line up neatly on one side.
Sometimes corrupt people correctly identified corruption in others.
Thomas Wren finally agreed to a proffer interview—a session in which he would provide information while prosecutors evaluated whether cooperation justified concessions.
We did not attend.
Detective Ruiz later shared only what she was permitted to disclose.
Wren admitted that Blue Heron coordinated confidential payments among fertility professionals, attorneys, and wealthy clients seeking to avoid consent disputes, inheritance restrictions, or public disclosure.
He claimed the organization began as a legitimate service helping families manage complicated reproductive arrangements.
Over time, certain participants began altering dates, identities, and consent records.
Wren insisted he never handled embryos.
He handled paper.
As if paper could not move bodies.
As if a forged consent could not change who became pregnant.
He identified Nadine as the person who connected Glen to Blue Heron.
According to Wren, Glen initially asked whether an existing embryo could be transferred to Clara without reopening “traumatic discussions” with me.
Wren told him no.
Nadine later told Glen there were administrative methods to document prior consent.
Wren claimed he did not know they planned to copy my signature.
Financial records contradicted parts of his story.
He received money after the transfer.
His level of knowledge remained disputed.
The biggest revelation concerned Embryo D.
Wren said D was not a single embryo identifier.
It was a category used inside Blue Heron communications.
D meant disputed.
Specimens involved in withdrawn donations, divorce litigation, unpaid storage conflicts, or unclear disposition instructions were marked internally as opportunities.
The word made Rebecca physically recoil.
Opportunities.
Human genetic material caught in legal uncertainty had been treated as inventory that could be redirected.
Northlake denied institutional knowledge. The clinic argued that rogue employees exploited legacy systems and access weaknesses.
The investigation would determine whether leadership ignored warning signs.
The genetic mother of Clara’s pregnancy had not been identified.
The neutral examiner narrowed the potential source to three disputed specimens stored during the relevant period. One had been created by an anonymous egg donor. One belonged to a divorced couple engaged in litigation. One came from a patient who withdrew research-donation consent.
Privacy orders prevented disclosure of identities until testing or further records established relevance.
Clara’s pregnancy advanced to eleven weeks.
Her physician reported normal development but cautioned that early findings could not guarantee outcome.
Clara moved to an undisclosed apartment and communicated with Glen only through attorneys.
She also began cooperating more fully with investigators.
That cooperation might reduce legal consequences.
It would not erase them.
She asked to see me again.
We met in a quiet courtyard outside Rebecca’s building.
For the first time since the pool party, no lawyers sat between us, though they remained nearby.
Clara wore a long gray coat despite the warm day.
“I’m going to testify,” she said.
“If they call you?”
“If they offer a cooperation agreement I can live with.”
“That sounds like your lawyer speaking.”
“She is better at protecting me than I was.”
I looked at her stomach.
“Have you decided what happens after birth?”
“No.”
Parentage proceedings would depend on genetics, intent, contracts, and state law. The fraudulent documents complicated everything. The unidentified genetic mother might assert rights. Glen would likely be recognized as genetic father, but his conduct could affect custody.
No answer would be simple.
Clara rubbed her hands together.
“I used to think carrying a baby made me important to him.”
The confession was ugly and honest.
“I knew he loved the idea of control. I told myself I could control him back.”
“By giving him a child?”
“By being necessary.”
“And me?”
She looked at the ground.
“I thought you would hate me for a while and then forgive me.”
“Because I always did.”
“Yes.”
I let the answer hurt.
Then I said, “I taught you that there were no consequences for betraying me.”
“No. You were kind to me.”
“Kindness without boundaries becomes permission.”
“That still doesn’t make this your fault.”
It was the first time Clara defended me without defending herself.
Before leaving, she handed me a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph of the compass tattoo taken on the day she got it. The skin around it was red. Glen’s hand rested beside the design.
On his smallest finger was a ring I had never seen.
A black metal band engraved with a heron.
Blue Heron.
“Where did he get this?” I asked.
“Nadine gave it to him.”
“Why?”
“She said members used them to recognize one another at private meetings.”
“Did you attend?”
“No.”
“Did Glen?”
“Three times.”
“Where?”
“A house near the lake. I only drove him once.”
She wrote the address on the back of the photograph.
The property belonged to a shell company.
May you like
That company’s registered contact was not Nadine.
It was Raymond Bennett.
