Chapter 5 - THE CHILD COLIN INTENDED TO OWN
Colin’s financial records provided the major break.
His advisory business had borrowed heavily from clients through private notes he described as low-risk investments. The money funded personal expenses, legal fees and the reproductive-services arrangement.
Several notes were coming due.
Colin had no realistic way to repay them.
He did, however, possess projections for the Collins Family Trust.
The spreadsheets assumed annual distributions of $180,000 for a future child’s housing, therapy, private education, security and caregiving. A separate line projected reimbursement for a residence purchased in the guardian’s name.
Over eighteen years, the requested distributions exceeded four million dollars.
Colin had not misunderstood the trust.
He intended to drain it through expenses he would control.
The plan reinterpreted details Maria had ignored.
He selected a clinic overseas not merely to avoid judgment but because its consent verification was weak.
He discouraged American prenatal care because a local hospital might identify the genetic parents and report the suspicious transfer.
He called the fetus a beneficiary because the child’s legal status mattered more to him than the pregnancy itself.
He kept the second embryo in Ontario as a backup in case Maria miscarried, died or refused to surrender the baby.
New Horizons had already located a commercial gestational carrier in Michigan.
Colin’s draft agreement offered her $48,000.
The contract falsely stated that Rachel had consented to use of the embryo.
Maria had not been Colin’s only intended carrier.
She had been the cheapest and easiest to control.
He knew she would pay most treatment costs herself.
He knew grief would keep her silent.
He knew that if she suffered complications, people would focus on her age instead of asking who had arranged the transfer.
Rachel read the carrier agreement in Dana’s office.
“He was going to try again while Mom was still pregnant.”
“He contacted the Michigan carrier after Maria reported bleeding in her fifth month.”
“He knew she might die.”
“He knew the pregnancy might fail.”
The distinction mattered.
Dana would not claim intent the documents did not prove.
Colin’s conduct was already serious without exaggeration: forgery, identity theft, unauthorized use of reproductive material, financial fraud and deliberate interference with Maria’s medical care.
Rachel asked Maria to attend a recorded interview with investigators and clinic attorneys.
Maria agreed.
She admitted forging Rachel’s signature, supplying the expired license and falsely claiming Rachel supported the transfer. She turned over her travel records, payment receipts and messages with Colin.
The admission exposed her to prosecution and civil liability.
Her lawyer advised her to stop.
“I already stopped too late,” Maria said.
Colin responded by claiming Maria acted alone.
He said his payments were gifts to an elderly woman experiencing a delusional pregnancy plan. He described himself as a grieving father who had tried to prevent her from making dangerous choices.
His attorney produced messages in which Colin warned Maria that pregnancy at her age could be unsafe.
The warnings were real.
They had been sent early, before Maria transferred money to New Horizons.
“He’ll say those prove he opposed the plan,” Dana said.
Rachel examined the dates.
Colin’s tone changed immediately after the Collins Family Trust confirmed that a genetically related child could qualify as a beneficiary.
Before the trust response, he discouraged Maria.
Afterward, he arranged the clinic.
Three days after learning the trust rules, he sent:
If you are serious, I know how to make it happen. Rachel cannot be allowed to destroy both embryos.
The money motive had activated the plan.
Maria’s grief had made it possible.
Colin’s final defense depended on portraying Rachel as someone who had abandoned her embryos and later weaponized consent out of spite.
A family-court hearing was scheduled to determine control of the second embryo while Canadian authorities maintained the storage hold.
Both genetic parents would testify.
Maria would also have to testify.
The night before the hearing, Rachel visited her mother’s house for the first time since Owen died.
Maria had returned from the hospital but walked with a cane. Doctors continued monitoring the placental tissue and warned that recovery could take months.
Owen’s room remained untouched.
Rachel stood in the doorway.
“This is where you planned to put the baby.”
“Yes.”
“In his bed?”
Maria looked ashamed.
“I ordered a new one.”
“But you wanted the same room.”
“I wanted to hear a child in the house.”
“Any child?”
“No.”
“One that looked like Owen.”
Maria sat on the edge of the hallway bench.
“I thought loving him again would hurt less than accepting he was gone.”
“You weren’t loving him again. You were replacing every person who refused to grieve your way.”
Maria did not defend herself.
Rachel entered Owen’s room and opened the curtains.
Dust moved in the afternoon light.
On the bookshelf sat a wooden city bus Maria had given him for his fourth birthday. Rachel picked it up, remembering the missing front wheel and the sound Owen made when pretending the doors opened.
“Colin says I abandoned our family,” she said.
“You left him.”
“After he blamed me for Owen.”
Maria stared at the carpet.
“I blamed you too.”
Rachel turned.
“I know.”
It was the first time either of them had said it directly.
Maria had resented Rachel for taking an extra shift the day of the cookout. Colin had resented her for asking him to watch Owen. Rachel had carried both accusations into every room after the funeral.
“I was his mother,” Rachel said. “You both acted as though that made me responsible for every second I wasn’t looking at him.”
Maria’s face folded.
“I am sorry.”
“Tomorrow, don’t apologize. Tell the truth.”
“All of it?”
“Especially the part that makes you look guilty.”
Maria nodded.
Rachel returned the wooden bus to the shelf.
“After the hearing, I’m deciding what happens to the second embryo.”
“Colin will fight you.”
“So will you.”
“No.”
Rachel studied her mother.
May you like
Maria looked toward the bright room she had kept sealed for two years.
“I have already mistaken wanting for a right,” she said. “I won’t do it again.”
