PART 4: THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN SEARCHING FOR US

The next morning, Emily arrived at my house at 8:15.

She looked exhausted.

Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she was holding a folder containing every medical document from her pregnancy.

I had prepared coffee, but neither of us drank it.

We drove to the clinic together.

The doctor was already waiting.

But he wasn’t alone.

A woman in a dark blue suit was sitting beside him.

“Sarah and Emily,” the doctor said, standing up. “Thank you for coming.”

The woman introduced herself as Margaret, the clinic’s medical director.

She placed two folders on the table.

“First, I want to apologize for the distress you’ve experienced. We should have contacted you earlier, and we understand how frightening this situation has been.”

Emily crossed her arms.

“Can someone finally tell us what’s happening?”

Margaret nodded.

“We have completed an initial review of the donor records. We have also requested additional testing to confirm the unusual findings.”

“Is Daniel genetically related to one of us?” I asked.

Margaret looked at the doctor.

He nodded.

She took a deep breath.

“Daniel’s original donor profile stated that he had been raised in foster care and had no known family medical history. However, during a recent update, our records revealed that he had participated in a family DNA investigation several years ago.”

Emily frowned.

“What kind of investigation?”

“A search for his biological relatives.”

The room became silent.

Margaret continued.

“Daniel was adopted as a young child. He had spent much of his adult life trying to find his biological family.”

I leaned forward.

“Did he find them?”

Margaret opened the first folder.

“Yes.”

She looked directly at me.

“And that discovery is connected to your family.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“My family?”

She nodded.

“Daniel’s biological mother was identified several years ago.”

I stared at her.

“What was her name?”

Margaret hesitated.

Then she said a name I hadn’t heard in years.

“Linda.”

My mother’s name.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

“No.”

Emily grabbed my arm.

“Sarah?”

I shook my head.

“No. That’s impossible.”

Margaret turned the document toward me.

There it was.

My mother’s full name.

Her date of birth.

And a medical record confirming the biological relationship.

I began shaking.

“You’re telling me Daniel is my brother?”

The doctor spoke gently.

“Based on the records we’ve received, Daniel appears to be your maternal half-brother. The relationship still requires formal genetic confirmation, but the evidence is strong.”

Emily covered her mouth.

I couldn’t move.

My mother had died when I was twenty-six.

She had never told me she had another child.

I remembered the stories she used to tell about her difficult early twenties.

The years before she met my father.

The time she spent away from home.

The sadness that sometimes appeared in her eyes when she talked about her youth.

But I had never imagined this.

“How could she have kept something like that from me?” I whispered.

Margaret placed another document on the table.

“There’s more.”

I looked at her.

“More?”

“Daniel contacted the clinic after receiving information about the genetic investigation. He wanted to know whether any of his biological relatives had used his donor profile.”

I stared at her.

“Did he know?”

“He did not know about your pregnancies when he first contacted us. But after learning that two recipients had received samples from him, he asked us to arrange a meeting.”

Emily suddenly stood.

“Wait. Does that mean our babies are cousins?”

The doctor nodded.

“If the relationship is confirmed, yes. Because Daniel is Sarah’s maternal half-brother, his child and Sarah’s child would be biological first cousins, rather than half-siblings.”

I looked at Emily.

She was pale.

“But what about my baby?”

The doctor turned toward her.

“Your child would share the same biological father as Sarah’s child. That means the two babies would be half-siblings through Daniel, and first cousins through Sarah’s family connection would not apply to your child in the same way. The precise family relationships need to be documented carefully.”

Emily looked confused.

The doctor explained further.

“The important point is that your children are biologically related through their shared donor. The newly discovered family connection concerns Sarah and Daniel.”

I began crying.

“Does this mean my baby is in danger?”

“No,” the doctor answered firmly. “A family relationship between the donor and you does not automatically mean that your baby has a genetic disorder. But it does mean we need a specialist genetic assessment. We must examine the actual inherited variants and the degree of biological relatedness.”

Emily sat down again.

For several minutes, nobody spoke.

Then the doctor said something unexpected.

“There’s one more person who would like to speak with you.”

The door opened.

And Daniel walked in.

He looked older than I remembered.

His hair was slightly longer, and he wore a simple grey sweater.

He stopped when he saw me.

“Sarah?”

I stood up slowly.

He looked at me with tears in his eyes.

“I am so sorry.”

I couldn’t speak.

He looked toward Emily.

“Emily, I’m sorry too. I never imagined this would happen.”

I finally found my voice.

“Did you know?”

He shook his head.

“No. I swear I didn’t know when I donated. I had no idea who my biological mother was. I only found out recently.”

“Why didn’t you tell the clinic?”

“I did. As soon as I received the confirmation of my biological family, I contacted them. I was afraid that my donor profile might have been used by someone related to me.”

I stared at him.

“How did you find my mother?”

Daniel took a photograph from his pocket.

It showed a younger woman holding a baby.

My mother.

I recognized her immediately.

“She was my mother too,” he said.

My legs almost gave way.

Daniel continued.

“I was born before you. Your mother was very young. She couldn’t take care of me, so I was placed for adoption. I spent years wondering who she was.”

He looked down.

“When I finally found her, I learned that she had died. I also learned that she had a daughter.”

Me.

“I wanted to contact you,” he said. “But I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to disturb your life.”

I stared at him.

“So you became a sperm donor without knowing your biological family history?”

“Yes. I believed the information in my adoption records was complete. The clinic screened me according to the medical information available at the time.”

Emily wiped her tears.

“Daniel, did you deliberately hide anything from us?”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART5…