Triplets Not According to Plan

“I need my son,” the stranger says arrogantly. “Do you want to hire a surrogate mother?” I try to be polite, but he scares me. “Do IVF in our clinic?” “Six years ago I handed over biological material to the IVF bank. As far as I know, it was used to conceive. Now you must find my child,” he carelessly tosses a stack of cash on the table. “No—those are confidential details. Everything is anonymous,” I interrupt him without touching the money. “And you can’t find the baby anyway. Imagine how many women did IVF with us during that period!” “And me, too,” I add silently, remembering my triplets. “We’ll check all clients. We’ll do a DNA test. And with the mother—I’ll handle that question myself,” he calmly says, and then adds more harshly: “He is my only blood heir. Because now I… am infertile.”

*** He donated his biological material to an IVF bank on a dare. Years later he showed up at the clinic and ordered me to find his child. But I hid the fact that I myself raise triplets conceived from an anonymous donor…