Chapter 7 - DONOR 1187
Rachel turned toward Grant.
“What is he talking about?”
Grant stared at Vale.
“You son of a bitch.”
Vale smiled faintly.
“Tell her.”
Rachel stepped between them.
“Grant.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“The donor profile.”
“What about it?”
Grant looked sick.
“I found it before our first appointment.”
Rachel frowned.
“No. The clinic gave us three options.”
“They gave you three options.”
A cold weight settled in her chest.
“What?”
Grant leaned against the wall.
“I had already asked for 1187.”
Rachel stared.
“You told me we chose him together.”
“I knew you would like him.”
“You lied?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?”
Grant’s voice rose.
“I wanted a donor who looked like me!”
Rachel blinked.
Donor 1187 had been six-foot-two.
Brown hair.
Dark eyes.
Athletic.
College educated.
Architecture degree.
Family history described as exceptionally healthy.
Grant continued.
“I thought if the baby looked enough like me, nobody would ask questions.”
“So this was about hiding your sterility.”
“It was about protecting our family.”
“No. It was about protecting you.”
Vale spoke behind them.
“He was very specific.”
Rachel turned.
“Why do you know that?”
Vale’s face went blank again.
“I reviewed donor requests.”
“Six years ago? As a retired board advisor?”
“I remained involved.”
Grant pointed at him.
“You called me.”
Vale didn’t answer.
“When I asked the clinic for a donor who looked like me, you called me personally.”
Rachel’s stomach dropped.
“You never told me that.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“He said he understood.”
Vale said quietly, “You were distressed.”
“You told me lots of men went through it.”
“That was true.”
“You said you could make sure the child felt like mine.”
Rachel looked from one to the other.
“What exactly did he promise?”
Grant swallowed.
“He said he could improve the match.”
Rachel’s skin went cold.
“The match to what?”
Vale said sharply, “Enough.”
Rachel stepped toward him.
“No. Not enough.”
Grant’s voice became thin.
“I thought he meant donor selection.”
Vale looked away.
Rachel understood before either man said it.
“Oh my God.”
Grant shook his head.
“No.”
Rachel stared at Vale.
“You chose yourself because Grant wanted someone who looked like him.”
Vale’s silence answered.
Grant moved first.
He grabbed Vale by the shirt and slammed him against the wall.
“You used yourself?”
“Grant!”
Rachel pulled at his arm.
Vale shoved him back.
“You wanted a child who resembled you!”
“I wanted the donor I selected!”
“You wanted certainty!”
“I wanted consent!”
Vale’s face flushed.
“You have no appreciation for how many families I helped.”
Rachel stared at him.
“By impregnating women with your own sperm?”
Vale’s eyes flicked toward her.
There it was.
Not denial.
Just offense at the wording.
Rachel whispered, “How many?”
He said nothing.
“How many children?”
Nothing.
Grant’s breathing was ragged.
Vale adjusted his shirt.
“You both need to leave.”
Rachel pulled out her phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
“On what evidence?”
She held up the recording screen.
Vale froze.
Rachel had started recording before entering the office.
Grant stared at her.
Vale’s expression changed completely.
The pleasant doctor disappeared.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
“Come get it.”
Vale stepped forward.
Grant immediately moved between them.
“Don’t.”
For the first time since the anniversary party, Grant sounded like Maddie’s father again.
Vale stopped.
Then the receptionist opened the door.
“Dr. Vale?”
Her face was pale.
“There are detectives downstairs.”
Vale went still.
Rachel’s phone buzzed.
Dr. Foster.
She answered.
“Rachel, listen carefully. We confirmed another DNA match.”
“To Vale?”
“We’re waiting on direct confirmation.”
“Then what?”
Dr. Foster took a breath.
“One of the twenty-three children matched a second Riverstone family.”
Rachel frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“The father in that family was also conceived at Vale Reproductive Medicine.”
Rachel’s eyes moved to Grant.
May you like
Dr. Foster continued.
“We believe the pattern spans two generations.”
