I was terminated.”
“What incident?” I asked.
Elise’s voice shook. “On the day of your transfer, I prepared embryo CR-7. Dr. Pike removed me from the laboratory before the procedure. Another technician brought in a catheter labeled ND-4. I told them the identifiers did not match. He said the intended father had authorized a correction.”
“Did you see what happened to my embryo?”
“It was returned to storage. Yesterday, I heard they scheduled it for transport.”
Leah looked at the clock. It was after midnight.
“Can you prove any of this?”
Elise had copied her incident report to a personal compliance archive before Northlake deleted it. She also had timestamped photographs required during embryo preparation. One showed CR-7 in its culture dish. Another, taken minutes later, showed the catheter labeled ND-4.
By two in the morning, Leah had contacted a judge, a state medical investigator, and the bank that administered Rowan & Finch’s operating accounts. At 5:42, an emergency order stopped the Evergreen courier from accepting CR-7.
My embryo still existed.
At seven, Leah asked whether I wanted to avoid the board meeting.
“Nathan is counting on me being absent.”
“He may accuse you publicly.”
“He already has.”
At nine, Nathan entered the Rowan & Finch conference room wearing the navy suit he used for difficult votes. Audrey sat beside him, pale and sleepless.
I waited in the adjoining office while Leah listened through the conference system.
Nathan told the directors I had suffered a psychological break after agreeing to a private surrogacy arrangement. He said I had threatened to keep a genetically unrelated child and had removed confidential records from our home.
“For Celia’s health and the stability of the company,” he concluded, “I recommend immediate medical leave and temporary transfer of executive authority.”
The board chair, Helen Morris, asked, “Where is Celia now?”
I opened the door.
“Right here.”
Every face turned toward me.
Nathan did not appear surprised. He had always been good at hiding panic.
Leah entered behind me and placed packets in front of each director.
“Before you vote,” I said, “please review the payments Nathan authorized to a shell company controlled by Northlake Fertility’s medical director.”
Nathan rose. “These allegations are the product of her current condition.”
Leah touched the conference-room controls.
Nathan’s recorded voice filled the room.
You wanted a baby. Audrey needed a carrier. We spared you another failure.
Then came his threat about the board, the physicians, and the custody transfer.
Nathan’s face lost its color.
“The recording has been manipulated,” he said.
A video screen illuminated at the end of the room. Dr. Cho appeared first and authenticated the referral she had received. Elise Moreno appeared next. She displayed the original laboratory images and the incident report Nathan had believed erased.
Helen removed her glasses. “Nathan, did you authorize company funds to be paid to Dr. Pike?”
“No.”
Audrey stood so abruptly that her chair struck the wall.
“Yes,” she said.
Nathan turned toward her.
She placed a second phone on the table.
“He used this to communicate with Dr. Pike. The messages are still there.”
“You ungrateful coward,” Nathan said.
Audrey recoiled.
Nathan looked around the table and realized that no one was looking at me as if I were unstable. They were looking at him as if they
