THE SURROGATE WHO STOLE HIS HEART

The call came at 2:47 PM on a Tuesday. Elena Martinez was just trying to finish some marketing report that would decide if she still had a job at StoneVault Cybersecurity.

Ms. Martinez? It's Nancy from Riverside Elementary. Sofia passed out at recess. The ambulance is taking her to Children's Hospital.

Elena felt like the world was spinning. Numbers and charts on her computer turned to garbage right in front of her eyes. Her daughter... Sofia, her eight-year-old, who just had to wear her purple dress because it was presentation day.

I'm on my way, Elena said, her throat tightening.

Twenty minutes later, Elena ran into the ER, her heels clicking like crazy on the floor. That sterile hospital smell just hit her, reminding her of way too many nights spent in places like this.

Sofia Martinez, she said to the receptionist, her hands shaking as she looked for her insurance card. Eight years old. They brought her from Riverside Elementary.

The woman looked at her with that practiced sympathy. Room 7. Dr. Patterson's with her now.

Elena found Sofia looking small in the white hospital bed. Her dark hair covered the pillow. Machines beeped, and an IV was stuck in her arm. But she was awake, and she smiled when she saw Elena.

Mama, I'm sorry I scared everyone. I just felt dizzy during kickball.

Elena's heart just about broke. She pushed Sofia's hair back. Don't be sorry, sweetie. How are you feeling?

Tired. And my chest feels weird.

Dr. Patterson walked in. Her face was neutral, like doctors get when they have bad news. Ms. Martinez? Can I talk to you for a sec?

Elena felt like she was freezing. She knew what was coming. Six months ago, they told her what Sofia had. Three months ago, the treatments stopped helping. And now...

I'll be right back, honey, Elena whispered, kissing Sofia's forehead.

Out in the hall, Dr. Patterson didn't beat around the bush. The tests show things have gotten worse since Sofia's last visit. Her heart's working way too hard, and the meds aren't doing enough.

Elena stared at some poster on the wall. A kitten was hanging from a branch that said Hang in There! It felt mean.

What does that mean? she asked, even though she knew. She'd been reading about Sofia's illness like crazy, even chatting with other parents online.

It means we need to do the surgery. Soon.

Surgery. Elena had been dreaming about it for months. $700,000 for something that might not even work. $700,000 she didn't have and couldn't get.

How soon?

Within the month, hopefully. Sofia's young, but her body can't keep fighting like this for much longer.

Elena nodded, already trying to figure things out. She had $2,347 in savings. Her credit cards were maxed. The insurance company wouldn't pay for experimental stuff.

After Dr. Patterson left, Elena went into the bathroom and cried for three minutes. Just a quiet cry, like she'd learned to do so Sofia wouldn't hear.

At 3:01, she splashed water on her face, put on lipstick, and went back to her daughter.

The drive home was quiet. Sofia was asleep, and Elena was still thinking about what to do. Another loan on her house? Nope. Her credit was too bad. GoFundMe? She'd raised $12,000, which was nothing.

The neighborhood looked run-down. Elena grew up in that house. She brought Sofia home to it. The paint was coming off, and the steps were in bad shape, but it was theirs, or it would be in fifteen years when the mortgage was paid.

Mama? Sofia asked as Elena helped her out of the car. Am I going to be okay?

Elena knelt down, looking into her daughter's eyes. You're going to be great, baby. I promise.

She had no idea how she could promise that.

Inside, Elena put Sofia on the couch with her blanket and put on a Disney movie. While Moana played, she went to the kitchen and looked at all the bills on the fridge. And at the bottom, the estimate from the hospital. It looked like it was written in a different language.

$700,000.

Elena took out her laptop and started searching. Medical tourism? Too dangerous. Clinical trials? None were open. Charities? Long waitlists.

Then, she found it. On the third page of search results.

Sunshine Surrogacy Services: Helping Build Families

Compensation starting at $75,000 for first-time surrogates

More money for exclusive arrangements

Private, professional, life-changing opportunities

Elena stared at the screen. Surrogacy. Other women did that. Women in other situations and different kinds of pain.

But $75,000 was more than she'd ever seen at once. And maybe even more for exclusive arrangements...

Her finger hovered over the link.

Sofia laughed from the living room. Her daughter was laughing. Even after everything, she was happy.

Elena clicked the link.

The website looked good. It had stories from parents and surrogates. The women seemed like normal people. Neighbors. Coworkers.

Being a surrogate helped a family and let me take care of my kids. - Sarah M.

The money changed everything for us. I'd do it again. - Jennifer T.

Elena went to the FAQ, her heart racing.

How much can I make?

$75,000 to start

Experienced surrogates make more

Exclusive arrangements can get you over $500,000.

Five hundred thousand. Elena gasped. It wasn't enough for the surgery, but it was close.

What do I need?

The list was long:

Age 21-35

Been pregnant before

Healthy, good mental health

No criminal record

Willing to do an exclusive arrangement

Elena had all of these.

What's an exclusive arrangement?

Some clients want a surrogate who only carries their child. They pay more for this.

More. Elena looked at the application page. It asked about everything: medical history, money, and why she wanted to do this.

Why are you interested in becoming a surrogate?

Elena looked at the blank box. What could she say? She was scared? She had no other choices? She would do anything to save her daughter?

She typed: I want to help a family and take care of my daughter.

It sounded too formal. It didn't say how scared she was.

Can you handle being pregnant and giving birth?

Elena had given birth to Sofia. She remembered the pain, the fear, that rushed when they put Sofia on her chest. She remembered Antonio leaving.

She'd done it alone before. She could again.

Yes.

Are you okay with artificial insemination?

Elena's face turned red. She read about the process online. It sounded like going to the dentist.

Yes.

Would you carry twins if you got pregnant with twins?

Yes.

Are you okay with following the parents' rules about food, exercise, etc.?

Yes.

Are you okay with little or no contact with the child?

Elena stopped. This was the hardest part. Carrying a baby for nine months, feeling it grow, then just giving it away. Letting someone else raise it.

She thought about Sofia sleeping. About the surgery. About choosing between her daughter and a baby that wasn't real.

Yes.

She wrote about being a single mom, having a good job, and being healthy. She didn't mention how scared she was or how she couldn't sleep.

She put up a picture of herself that Sofia had taken. She looked okay. She didn't look like she was drowning.

Elena clicked Submit Application.

Thank you. We'll contact you in 48 hours. We like people who are flexible and private.

Elena closed the laptop. Sofia was asleep on the couch. The house was quiet.

She'd done it. She'd applied to carry someone's baby for money.

It should have scared her. It would have been a few months ago. But things are worse now.

Her phone buzzed. It was a text from her sister: How was the hospital? Is Sofia okay?

Elena looked at the message. How could she explain things?

She's fine. She just needs to rest.

Another lie. Elena was good at those now.

She checked her email non-stop. Sofia stayed home. Elena worked, but she couldn't focus.

Thursday morning, the email came.

Dear Ms. Martinez,

We like your application. A client wants to meet you. This is an exclusive arrangement. They are looking for someone who can agree to privacy. The pay starts at $500,000, plus health insurance, money for living expenses, and bonus payments.

Please reply as soon as possible if interested. This Client wants to interview you instead of doing screening.

We need total privacy until the papers are signed.

Margaret Foster

Elena read it three times. Five hundred thousand dollars. Plus more. Plus insurance.

It was enough.

Her hands shook as she typed: I'm interested. When can we meet?

The answer came fast: Tomorrow, 2 PM. We'll send the address in the morning. Come alone and tell no one.

Elena looked at the email. The secrecy should have worried her. But she was too desperate.

She took off work, asked her neighbor to watch Sofia, and tried not to think about what she was doing.

That night, she stood in Sofia's doorway, watching her sleep.

I'm going to save you, baby, Elena whispered. No matter what.

Outside, a car door slammed. The street was empty, but she felt like someone was watching her.

Tomorrow, she will meet the person who might save Sofia. Tomorrow, she will start down a crazy path.

Tonight, she was just a mom.

Elena closed the door and got ready for what was coming.