A few weeks after listening to the tapes, another surprise knocked on our door. It was a call from Grace Holden. Even though she had been retired for years, she maintained the habit of monitoring legal mail related to the Asteron case. "Ryan," Grace’s voice came through the phone, slightly raspy but still sharp. "Do you remember the letter from the Voluntary Registry that you and Sophie chose to ignore in August?" "I remember," I replied. "We didn't want to disturb the ghosts of the past." "It seems the ghost doesn't want to be ignored. Identifier HR-1999-RC has an official match request. Not from another child. This time, it’s from the Morris family. Robert and Elaine Morris." I froze. The Morris family. The couple who shared the initials "R.E.M." with us (Ryan and Emily). They were the ones who had actually signed the embryo donation form, but their file code had been mistakenly assigned to our embryos in the storage system by a data clerk. That fatal administrative error had created the loophole for Denise Hall to forge the paperwork. "What do they want?" I asked. "They want to meet you," Grace said. "Robert Morris passed away last year. Elaine is living in the suburbs. She said her family has carried an invisible guilt for three decades, even though they did nothing wrong." I hung up and sat stunned in my armchair. I had always thought of this tragedy as something belonging solely to the Carter and Mercer families. I had forgotten that, somewhere out there, others were swept into the vortex of a mistake they didn't create. I called Sophie.