Chapter 6: What the Records Showed
The law firm was called Alderman & Cross.
The attorney assigned to our case was a woman named Patricia Sole, and she had been building the Voss file for fourteen months.
She met us in a conference room on the nineteenth floor of a building downtown.
She had printed copies of everything laid out in order before we arrived.
She did not waste time.
"Dr.
Harlan Voss performed unauthorized self-insemination procedures on patients at the Voss Fertility Clinic between 1988 and 2003," she said.
"We have confirmed twenty-three biological children through independent DNA analysis.
We believe the actual number is higher." She looked at me.
"Your daughter Maddie is Case Fourteen in our documentation."
Grant sat very still beside me.
"What are the charges?" I asked.
"Civil fraud.
Breach of informed consent.
Medical battery under state statute." She paused.
"Potentially criminal charges as well, depending on the jurisdiction and Voss's current health status.
The DA's office has been briefed."
"He's eighty-one," Grant said.
"Age is not a legal defense," Patricia said.
"And the harm to these families is ongoing.
The psychological impact alone—" She stopped.
"We don't need to argue that point to you."
She slid a document across the table.
"This is a declaration of participation.
It adds your family to the civil action.
It also authorizes us to include Maddie's DNA profile in the formal evidence package."
I reached for the pen.
Grant put his hand over mine.
Not to stop me.
Just to be there.
I signed.
"There's something else," Patricia said.
She opened a second folder.
"We've been trying to establish Voss's personal relationships during the clinic years.
Specifically, anyone with direct knowledge of his methods who might be willing to provide a statement." She looked at Grant carefully.
"We have reason to believe your mother had a significant personal relationship with Dr.
Voss during the relevant period."
"She did," Grant said.
Patricia didn't react.
"Would she be willing to speak with us?"
"No," he said.
"Would she be willing to provide a written statement in exchange for being named as a witness rather than a subject of investigation?"
Grant looked at me.
I looked at the folder.
Inside, near the back, was a photograph I hadn't seen before.
It was different from the one I had found at home.
This one was taken inside the clinic.
Evelyn was standing beside Harlan Voss in a white-walled office.
She was not a patient in this photograph.
She was standing behind the desk.
She was smiling.
On the desk in front of her was an open patient file.
"Where did you get this?" I asked.
"Former clinic administrator.
She kept copies of everything." Patricia's voice was even.
"Mrs.
Calloway, your mother-in-law had access to patient records.
We believe she was aware of the procedures being performed.
We believe she may have helped manage which patients were selected."
The room was very quiet.
Grant's hand was still on mine.
I felt it tighten.
"She didn't just know," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"We don't have proof of active participation yet," Patricia said carefully.
"But the photograph places her in a position of access.
And her silence for thirty years—" She closed the folder.
"It matters."
Grant stood up.
He walked to the window and stood with his back to us, looking out at the city.
Patricia looked at me.
"Give him a moment," I said.
She nodded and began organizing her papers.
Grant stood at that window for a long time.
When he finally turned around, his face had changed.
Not broken.
Settled.
The way a man looks when he has finished arguing with something inside himself and lost.
May you like
"Tell me what you need from her," he said.
"I'll make the call."
