Chapter 4 - Linda Had Always Cared About Blood

Linda Mercer talked about family the way some people talk about religion.

Blood.

Name.

Legacy.

She loved all three words.

When Michael and I first struggled to conceive, she suggested donor eggs before anybody had even identified the fertility problem.

“Michael deserves his own child.”

I laughed.

She didn’t.

When we learned the issue was primarily male-factor infertility, Linda went silent for nearly a week.

Michael hated discussing it.

I respected that.

Maybe too much.

IVF became another subject we handled privately.

Riverside Fertility Center stored Michael’s frozen sperm.

We completed one retrieval cycle.

Three viable embryos.

One transfer.

Pregnancy.

Linda cried when she heard.

Robert opened champagne.

Ashley hugged me.

Michael sat alone in our bedroom for ten minutes.

I found him staring at the positive test.

“You okay?”

“I’m going to be a dad.”

He smiled.

I thought he was overwhelmed with happiness.

Maybe he was.

Months later, after the assault, I began replaying things differently.

Linda repeatedly asked whether doctors could:

“Guarantee the embryo was Michael’s.”

I thought she meant some bizarre misunderstanding of IVF.

Michael always shut her down.

“Mom, stop.”

Then she started asking about blood tests.

Genetic testing.

Whether the baby had been screened for inherited conditions.

She became fascinated with things she did not understand.

I assumed it was invasive curiosity.

Then Ashley called Maya.

She wanted another interview.

This time voluntarily.

She had remembered something.

Three weeks before the attack, Linda asked Ashley—who was a registered nurse—to explain non-invasive prenatal paternity testing.

Ashley refused.

“She said it was creepy.”

“Did Linda say why?”

According to Ashley:

“She said she needed to know whether this family was being lied to.”

Maya asked:

“Did Ashley tell Michael?”

“Yes.”

“What did he do?”

Nothing.

That was becoming a theme.

Michael did not order the test.

At least not directly.

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But he knew his mother was considering one.

And he did not warn me.