Chapter 3 - The Price of a Healthy Baby
Eighty-five thousand dollars.
That was what my son had paid between learning his baby had a heart defect and leaving the hospital with someone else’s child.
I could not stop staring at the amount.
Maya’s attorney, Camille Reyes, met us at Nora’s office the next morning.
Maya sat beside her.
She looked younger than seventeen.
Oversized sweatshirt.
Hair tied back carelessly.
Hands constantly moving.
She had given birth five days earlier.
She should have been resting beside her baby.
Instead, she was sitting inside a conference room explaining why a hospital administrator believed poverty made her child available.
Camille placed forms on the table.
“We recovered electronic copies.”
The first page said temporary neonatal assistance.
The second authorized social-work evaluation.
The third contained a signature supposedly relinquishing emergency custody.
Maya stared.
“That’s not what I signed.”
“Is the signature yours?” Camille asked.
“It looks like mine.”
“What were you told?”
“That it let them help me get insurance.”
Camille nodded.
“That matters.”
Maya looked at me.
“Did your son know?”
I could have protected Daniel with uncertainty.
Instead I answered honestly.
“He paid the placement company.”
Her face changed.
“How much?”
“Eighty-five thousand.”
Maya began crying.
I hated my son in that moment.
Then hated myself for how quickly hate simplified everything.
Nora touched my arm.
“Stay with the facts.”
I nodded.
Camille continued.
“The emergency hearing is tomorrow.”
“We will ask the court to suspend Daniel and Laura’s custodial claim until the consent process is reviewed.”
“What happens to Maya’s baby tonight?” I asked.
“A neutral foster medical placement may be ordered.”
Maya shook her head immediately.
“No.”
“I want him.”
Camille looked toward her.
“The court may require a home assessment first.”
“I have a room.”
“I have diapers.”
“I have a crib.”
She pulled out her phone.
Photographs.
A small bedroom.
A used crib.
Stacks of folded baby clothes.
More preparation than Daniel had ever shown me.
“My aunt lives with me,” Maya said.
“She’ll help.”
“I can work.”
“I already talked to my school.”
“I’m not throwing him away because I’m seventeen.”
The words entered me like a knife.
Daniel was thirty-four.
Married.
Financially comfortable.
Surrounded by resources.
He had thrown away a baby because that baby might require surgery.
Maya was seventeen and fighting everyone in the room for hers.
Then my phone buzzed.
Daniel.
I ignored it.
Again.
Then a text.
MOM, I KNOW YOU’RE WITH HER.
I looked up.
“How?”
Nora’s expression changed.
“Who knew this meeting location?”
Only four people.
Nora.
Camille.
Maya.
Me.
Then a black SUV slowed outside the office window.
Camille stood.
“That car followed us from court services.”
Nora called building security.
The SUV drove away.
Daniel had begun watching us.
I finally answered his call.
“What do you want?”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No.”
“I’m reviewing one.”
“Maya is unstable.”
“She has a history.”
“What history?”
“She ran away from foster care.”
Maya stared at me.
I placed the phone on speaker.
Camille began recording.
Daniel continued.
“She used drugs.”
Maya whispered, “That’s a lie.”
“She was homeless.”
“I lived with my aunt.”
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“Mom, you don’t know these people.”
“These people?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
He lowered his voice.
“That baby has a better life with us.”
The room became silent.
I looked at Maya.
Her face collapsed.
I spoke slowly.
“You just admitted you know whose baby you have.”
Silence.
Then Daniel disconnected.
Camille smiled without warmth.
“Thank you, Daniel.”
The call became evidence.
That evening, Daniel filed a petition accusing Maya of extortion.
He claimed she contacted his family for money.
He also accused me of interfering with a lawful adoption because I had become “emotionally fixated” on the biological baby.
He requested that I be removed from trust control temporarily.
That part made Nora laugh.
“Why is that funny?” I asked.
“Because he just showed us what he actually fears.”
“The babies?”
“The money.”
Daniel knew the trust could fund the legal battle.
He wanted control.
Nora prepared our response.
Then she discovered something worse.
Daniel had tried to amend the Carter Family Trust online three months earlier using an old power-of-attorney document.
My signature had been copied onto the submission.
If approved, he would have gained authority if I were declared medically incapacitated.
The bank rejected it because the signature verification failed.
No one had told me.
I sat staring at the application.
“He was preparing to take my trust before the baby was born.”
Nora nodded.
“Why?”
We found the answer in another attachment.
Daniel claimed Laura was expecting a child with significant future medical and educational needs.
The date was before the delivery.
Before anyone knew about the heart defect.
So what medical needs was he predicting?
Then Maya leaned over the document.
“What is that number?”
A patient identification code appeared in Daniel’s attachment.
Nora compared it to the neonatal documents.
It was not his biological son’s patient number.
It belonged to another pregnancy.
Another surrogate.
Another baby.
May you like
Daniel and Laura had not arranged one child.
They had arranged two.
