Chapter 6 - The Missing Consent FormWe drove home like the road itself was trying to stop us.
Emily didn't answer her phone.
Mark didn't answer his.
When we reached the house, the front door was unlocked.
“Emily!”
No response.
I ran upstairs.
Her room was empty.
Her backpack was gone.
Her jacket was gone.
On the desk was a single envelope.
My name was written across it.
I tore it open.
Inside was a hospital consent form.
I read the first line.
Emergency Research Participation Authorization.
My hands went numb.
“Where is she?”
Daniel grabbed the paper.
“Don't sign anything.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“Rachel, this document gives them access to more than her medical records.”
“What?”
“Biological samples.”
I stared at him.
“What biological samples?”
“Blood. Tissue. Genetic material.”
My stomach twisted.
“They can't do that.”
“Not legally without consent.”
“Whose consent?”
He looked at me.
“That's the problem.”
I suddenly understood.
“Mark.”
Daniel nodded.
“He signed something years ago.”
I looked at the bottom of the page.
There was a signature.
Mark Whitman.
Date:
Six months before Emily was born.
My vision blurred.
He had agreed to something before I had even given birth.
Then I heard the front door.
I ran downstairs.
Mark entered.
Alone.
“Where is Emily?”
He looked at me.
“She is safe.”
“Where?”
“That's not important.”
I slapped him.
The sound echoed through the hallway.
“You took our daughter.”
“I took her somewhere safe.”
“You stole her.”
“Rachel, listen to me.”
“No!”
He stepped closer.
“The company knows about her condition.”
I froze.
“How?”
“Because they have her records.”
“You gave them her records.”
His eyes closed.
“Yes.”
The confession was almost worse than the lie.
“Why?”
“Because we needed money.”
“We?”
He looked away.
“I made mistakes.”
“How much?”
He didn't answer.
“How much, Mark?”
“Enough.”
“You sold our daughter's medical history to pay debts?”
His face hardened.
“You don't understand what happened.”
“Then explain.”
“I invested badly.”
“How badly?”
He swallowed.
“I owed nearly two million dollars.”
I stared at him.
“And Emily became your solution.”
“No.”
“That's exactly what happened.”
He shook his head.
“You weren't supposed to know.”
“What is she to them?”
“A subject.”
The word made me sick.
“She is our daughter.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
Mark's eyes filled with tears.
For the first time, he looked broken.
“I thought I could fix everything before you found out.”
“You didn't.”
“I know.”
“Where is Emily?”
He hesitated.
Then:
“At the research clinic.”
My blood ran cold.
“What clinic?”
He gave me an address.
I memorized it.
Daniel grabbed my arm.
“We're going.”
Mark stepped between us.
“Rachel, wait.”
“No.”
“You don't understand what happens if you interfere.”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
Mark whispered:
“Because the doctor treating Emily is the same doctor who signed the original agreement.”
I stared at him.
Then he said:
“And five years ago, he told me Emily might not survive to fifteen.”
Everything stopped.
I looked toward the door.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Mark's voice broke.
“Because if I told you, you'd ask why.”
“And if I asked why?”
May you like
He looked at me.
“You'd discover that I knew from the day she was born.”
