Chapter 21 - a real diagnosis did not make marissa retrospectively right
The independent evaluation took weeks.
I chose the psychologist like I was hiring someone to secure nuclear material.
Credentials.
References.
No connection to Briar Glen.
No residential placement network.
No financial conflicts.
The psychologist tolerated me.
Barely.
Nora liked her.
That mattered more.
The result was straightforward.
Trauma-related anxiety with strong intolerance for unexpected change.
Not psychosis.
Not manipulation.
Not fantasy construction.
Not dangerous attachment.
Anxiety.
Real.
Treatable.
Nora looked at me after the appointment.
“So something is wrong with me.”
“No.”
The psychologist corrected both of us.
“There is something making life harder for you.”
“That is different.”
Nora considered.
“Do I have anxiety because Marissa?”
“Probably partly.”
“And Mommy dying?”
“Possibly.”
“And because my brain?”
“Maybe.”
The psychologist smiled.
“Human beings are inconveniently complicated.”
Nora liked her after that.
I did too.
Reluctantly.
That night I sat beneath Laurel’s framed letter.
For years I had believed the moral victory was proving Nora had never been unstable.
Now I saw another trap.
Nora did not need to be symptom-free for Marissa to have been wrong.
She could have anxiety.
Nightmares.
Cling.
Cry.
Repeat questions.
Need therapy.
None of those facts justified falsified evidence or removal.
Marissa’s wrongdoing had never depended on Nora being perfectly well.
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It depended on turning the child’s real needs into weapons against her belonging.
That distinction changed everything.
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