Chapter 17 - THE ELEVEN EGGS
Eleven.
Nora repeated the number silently.
Eleven eggs removed while she was unconscious.
Without consent.
Without knowledge.
Six years ago.
Before the fertility treatments she remembered.
Before the twins.
Before Ava.
Heather said Voss called it preservation.
He claimed Nora might lose ovarian function after surgery.
But no consent form authorized retrieval.
No emergency justified reproductive collection.
And the eggs did not remain preserved for Nora.
According to the hidden laboratory log, they entered an experimental program.
Nora felt sick.
“Were embryos created?”
Heather looked uncertain.
“I don’t know how many.”
“How many children?”
“I don’t know.”
Nora closed her eyes.
Not again.
The number of hidden biological children could expand.
Federal investigators urgently reviewed Voss’s private records.
The coded list included an older entry.
N.P.-X11.
Eleven oocytes.
Outcome section partially deleted.
Technicians reconstructed fragments.
Fertilized: 8.
Transferred: 4.
Stored: 2.
Discarded: 2.
Nora’s blood ran cold.
Four transferred.
To whom?
Two stored.
Where?
Investigators searched cryogenic facilities linked to Voss.
Records had been manipulated.
Some tanks relabeled.
Some shipments crossed states.
This was no longer a single nightmare.
It was a maze.
Nora sat with Daniel.
“I could have more children.”
“Biological offspring.”
“Yes.”
“Words matter.”
Nora nodded.
He was right.
Children were not property.
Biological connection did not erase existing families.
Still, the knowledge was enormous.
Nora felt robbed of choice.
Choice was the central injury.
Other people decided whether her genetic material would create life.
Who would carry those lives.
Who would raise them.
Whether Nora would ever know.
At 9:20 a.m., one stored sample was located.
Cryogenic facility in Nevada.
Chain-of-custody irregular.
Federal court order froze movement.
Preliminary identifiers suggested it belonged to Nora.
The second stored sample was gone.
Transfer record indicated destruction.
Nobody trusted that record.
Four older embryo transfers had recipient codes.
R1.
R2.
R3.
R4.
Names hidden.
Voss refused to cooperate unless prosecutors negotiated.
His leverage shrank daily.
But he still held information.
Nora did not speak to him again.
She refused to buy answers from a man who had treated human reproduction like private inventory.
Investigators would find them.
At noon, Edgar asked for Nora.
Again.
She nearly refused.
Then Daniel said.
“He has something about the six-year procedure.”
Nora agreed.
Edgar appeared on video.
No tears this time.
He looked exhausted.
“Nora.”
She said nothing.
“I knew about the retrieval.”
Nora closed her eyes.
Of course.
“How?”
“My mother told me afterward.”
“After?”
“Yes.”
“So you didn’t authorize it?”
“No.”
Nora watched carefully.
“Did you benefit from it?”
Edgar looked down.
“That depends what you mean.”
Rage sharpened.
“What could that possibly mean?”
“My mother said Voss preserved eggs.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“And you accepted that?”
“I argued with her.”
Nora almost laughed.
His favorite defense.
Argument without action.
“What happened to the eggs?”
“I didn’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I knew some were used later.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who received them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you know children were born?”
Edgar hesitated.
Nora’s heart hardened.
“How many?”
“I knew about one.”
“Who?”
“A boy.”
Nora stopped breathing.
“How old?”
“Five.”
“Where?”
Edgar looked toward his attorney.
His attorney nodded slightly.
“California.”
Nora whispered.
“Name?”
“Lucas.”
Her chest tightened.
“Parents?”
“I don’t know their full names.”
“Did you meet him?”
Silence.
Nora already knew.
“You met him.”
“Once.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
The cruelty continued finding new rooms.
Edgar had met another biological child linked to Nora.
While Nora knew nothing.
“Why?”
“My mother took me.”
“Did she tell you Lucas was genetically mine?”
“Yes.”
“Paternal genetics?”
Edgar shook his head.
“Voss.”
Nora closed her eyes.
Edgar knew Voss fathered at least one child.
Then why was he surprised Ava was not his?
Nora asked.
“You knew Voss had used his genetic material.”
“For Lucas.”
“Why did you assume Ava was yours?”
“Because my mother said that arrangement was different.”
Nora almost laughed.
“And you believed her.”
“Yes.”
Of course.
“What happened with Lucas?”
“His parents wanted anonymous donation.”
“Did they know it was stolen?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why did Kristina take you?”
“To show me.”
“To show you what?”
Edgar’s face twisted.
“That you could have had children.”
Nora went still.
Kristina had weaponized a five-year-old child against her own son too.
Perhaps she wanted Edgar resentful.
Perhaps that resentment made Heather easier.
“What did you feel?”
Nora asked.
Edgar began crying.
“I hated her.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
“Did you report Voss?”
“No.”
“Did you tell the parents?”
“No.”
Nora nodded.
“Then your hatred changed nothing.”
Edgar looked broken.
Nora continued.
“Where is Lucas?”
Edgar gave a name.
Family.
San Diego.
Federal agents contacted them quietly.
Another devastated family.
Lucas was safe.
Loved.
His parents had no idea.
Nora did not contact them.
Not yet.
She refused to detonate another child’s life before legal and psychological professionals guided the process.
Edgar also knew of one older transfer recipient.
A woman named Cassandra Bell.
Phoenix.
The name hit Nora.
Cassandra had once been Kristina’s neighbor.
Nora remembered meeting her at a barbecue.
Seven years ago.
Cassandra later moved.
Nora contacted investigators.
Cassandra Bell had a daughter.
Mia.
Age five.
Genetic testing followed with consent.
Mia was biologically related to Nora.
Voss was father.
Another child.
Nora felt numb.
Four older transfers.
Lucas.
Mia.
Two still unidentified.
Ava.
Eli.
Grace.
At least five children connected biologically to Nora.
Possibly seven.
Nora did not know how to hold that information.
At 3:00 p.m., national media discovered the larger fertility case.
Nora’s name trended.
Commentators argued.
Some called her a mother of five.
Others called the families victims.
Some treated the scandal like entertainment.
Nora released no statement.
These children were not content.
She ordered her communications team never to release names.
Never photographs.
Never family details.
Protection first.
At 4:15, Heather requested another conversation.
Nora hesitated.
Then agreed.
Heather looked ashamed.
“I remembered something.”
Nora waited.
“Your father responded to my package.”
Nora stopped.
“What?”
“He sent me a letter.”
“Where is it?”
“I destroyed it.”
Nora closed her eyes.
Of course.
“But I remember what he said.”
“What?”
“He said he already knew Kristina was targeting your fertility.”
Nora frowned.
“How?”
“He had intercepted messages.”
“Between whom?”
“Kristina and Charles Harlan.”
Nora’s stomach tightened.
Before Nora’s remembered infertility treatments, Kristina was already discussing reproduction.
Heather continued.
“Your father said the children were not the only goal.”
Nora’s pulse increased.
“What was?”
“Control over your company.”
Nora knew that.
Heather shook her head.
“No.”
“Not inheritance.”
“Ownership.”
Nora frowned.
“Explain.”
Heather said William believed Charles Harlan had inserted language into early Preston Materials agreements.
Conversion rights.
Contingency shares.
Options triggered by Nora’s death or incapacity.
Nora looked at Daniel.
He stood immediately.
“What agreements?”
Heather did not know.
Daniel began contacting corporate counsel.
Preston Materials started as a small company.
Early financing involved private lenders.
One lender.
Harlan Strategic Capital.
Nora felt cold.
Charles Harlan’s entity.
She had repaid the loan years ago.
But old agreements contained warrants.
The warrants were supposedly canceled.
Were they?
Corporate attorneys searched archives.
One hidden amendment appeared.
If Nora died before a specific corporate restructuring date, warrants could convert into 18% ownership.
Transferable to designated successors.
The restructuring had occurred three years ago.
So the clause expired.
But before then, Kristina and Harlan could have gained major company ownership if Nora died.
That explained why the original targeting started early.
The plan evolved as Nora’s wealth evolved.
When one path closed, another opened.
Company warrants.
Father’s trust.
Marriage assets.
Insurance.
Biological-child claims.
Kristina did not rely on one scheme.
She built backups.
Nora whispered.
“She never stopped.”
Elaine nodded.
“Predators adapt.”
At 6:00 p.m., the two unidentified older transfer recipients were finally traced.
One embryo failed to develop.
No child.
The fourth transfer produced a daughter.
Four years old.
Living in Oregon.
Her parents requested privacy.
Nora agreed.
That brought the known children to six.
Lucas.
Mia.
Unnamed Oregon girl.
Eli.
Grace.
Ava.
Six biological children created from Nora’s genetic material without informed consent.
Nora sat alone for nearly an hour.
Then Grace sent a drawing through Elise.
A stick figure with brown hair.
Another little stick figure beside her.
At the top, childish letters:
NORA.
Nora cried.
Not because she believed Grace was suddenly her daughter emotionally.
But because the child knew her name.
And someone had once tried to make that name frightening.
Nora decided Kristina would not control that story.
Later that evening, Daniel entered.
“Something happened.”
Nora wiped her face.
“What?”
“Kristina’s attorney withdrew.”
“Why?”
“She threatened him.”
Nora almost laughed.
“With what?”
“Exposure.”
“Of what?”
“Apparently Kristina kept records on everyone.”
Of course she did.
A woman who built leverage for decades would not rely on memory.
“Where?”
“That’s the problem.”
“Police don’t know.”
Kristina had mentioned a private archive.
She offered its location in exchange for a deal.
Prosecutors refused her first demand.
She lowered it.
Still refused.
Then Kristina sent Nora a message through legal counsel.
Only Nora can find it.
Nora stared.
Attached was one clue.
A photograph of William Preston’s old watch.
Nora’s father’s watch had disappeared after his death.
She thought it was lost at the hospital.
On the back, William had engraved coordinates.
Not geographic coordinates.
Nora recognized them.
Warehouse aisle and rack numbers.
Her first warehouse.
The original Preston Materials facility.
Aisle 7.
Rack 14.
Bin 3.
Nora stood.
“That warehouse is still operating.”
Daniel looked alarmed.
“We send police.”
Nora nodded.
They did.
Behind an old structural column at Aisle 7, Rack 14, Bin 3, workers found a metal safe installed inside the wall.
Kristina had hidden evidence in Nora’s own company.
The safe opened with a code derived from William’s death date.
Inside were files.
Jewelry.
Cash.
Passports.
And dozens of labeled envelopes.
One envelope read:
NORA — LAST RESORT.
Daniel opened it under law-enforcement supervision.
Inside was a photograph.
Nora at age nineteen.
College.
Standing beside a young man.
Her first serious boyfriend.
Michael Reeves.
Nora had not thought about him in years.
Michael died in a motorcycle accident when Nora was twenty-one.
Attached was a police report.
Nora frowned.
“What does Michael have to do with this?”
Then she saw the investigator name.
Gregory Halden.
Halden had been a young detective then.
Nora’s skin went cold.
Michael’s death.
Twenty years ago.
Long before Edgar.
Long before Preston Materials.
Long before Kristina should have known Nora.
Daniel turned the final page.
A handwritten note from Kristina.
First obstacle removed.
Nora stopped breathing.
The nightmare had not started eleven years ago.
May you like
It had started when Nora was nineteen.
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