Chapter 6 - THE MOTHER EVERYONE CALLED UNSTABLECatherine agreed to release her mental health records to Lacey.
Margaret advised redacting third-party names.
Catherine said only legally required.
Lacey expected polished medical language.
She found a frightened thirty-seven-year-old woman.
Patient reports intrusive thoughts of dropping infant while descending stairs. States she avoids stairs when alone. Denies intent to harm. Demonstrates insight.
Patient reports shame regarding inability to sleep, even when infant sleeping.
Patient describes mother-in-law as “waiting for proof I am unfit.”
Patient repeatedly asks whether seeking treatment can be used in custody proceedings.
Lacey paused there.
Catherine had predicted.
Another note:
Patient states husband supportive but frequently absent for work.
Another:
Patient became tearful when infant soothed by caregiver. States, “She calms for everyone but me.”
Lacey recognized theme.
Not dangerous mother.
Overwhelmed.
Still, one incident concerned.
Catherine admitted shouting near Lucy and putting her down abruptly in crib.
No injury.
She immediately called sister Helena.
Asked someone come.
That showed safety awareness.
Beatrice later described incident in affidavit as:
Catherine lost control while holding child.
Technically true.
Framing mattered.
The temporary authorization Catherine signed before inpatient treatment granted Beatrice:
permission for medical decisions and daily care for seven days.
It did not transfer guardianship.
Yet another document Harold Venn drafted referred to Beatrice as temporary custodian.
Stronger word.
Catherine said she never saw before Lucy vanished.
Signature?
Not Catherine’s.
Jonathan’s.
Lacey called Catherine.
“Why did Jonathan sign?”
“He said Harold told him administrative.”
“Did he read?”
“No.”
“Family trait?”
Catherine laughed painfully.
“Yes.”
Jonathan’s carelessness mattered.
He loved daughter.
Still signed.
No villain purity.
Lacey asked:
“Why were you admitted?”
“Panic attack.”
“I hadn’t slept forty-eight hours.”
“I became convinced Lucy had fever when thermometer normal.”
“I called pediatrician repeatedly.”
“My psychiatrist recommended medication adjustment inpatient because I was afraid to be alone.”
“Did you want go?”
“No.”
“But I knew needed.”
“Beatrice?”
“She volunteered to stay.”
Catherine’s face darkened.
“I thanked her.”
That is grief cruelty:
The person you suspect later was once relief.
The old police files showed investigators considered parental abduction, family abduction, outsider kidnapping, accidental death hidden by caregiver.
No evidence.
Beatrice passed polygraph? Maybe unreliable; avoid.
She cooperated initially, then lawyers.
One nanny, Rosa Delgado, disappeared from records after moving to Florida.
Catherine had tried find years later.
She died before interview.
But Rosa’s sister recalled something:
Beatrice had asked about “temporary placement homes” for children while mothers recovered.
Police note.
Not enough.
Lacey read.
Private home in Pennsylvania begins shadow.
“What if Beatrice genuinely thought she was protecting me?”
Catherine answered:
“Then she should have gone to court.”
“Not disappeared child.”
“If.”
“Yes.”
Catherine never claimed confirmed.
Good.
Lacey’s resistance to DNA remained.
Why?
Because DNA would collapse possibilities.
Right now Catherine might be wrong.
Then Lacey’s childhood remains weird but separate.
If positive, whole identity shifts.
Nora Keene said:
“Testing doesn’t change history, only informs.”
“Easy legal phrase.”
“Yes.”
Lacey delayed.
Catherine accepted.
Ruth struggled more.
She texted once:
I know you asked space. I found pediatric record from first year with us. I can give Nora, no contact needed.
Good boundary.
Lacey replied:
Give Nora. Thanks.
No love.
Not yet.
The record listed:
Estimated age 15–16 months at placement. Responds to “Lu” and “Bell.”
Lacey stared.
Bell.
Not random.
She forwarded to Catherine.
Catherine replied only:
I received. I am here if you want to talk.
No exclamation.
No “proof.”
Again restraint.
At work, Tessa asked:
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Need cover?”
“No.”
“I need normal.”
Normal meant memorizing specials.
A guest complained water temperature.
Lacey nearly laughed at relief.
That night, she dreamed school fence.
Woman crying:
Lucy-bell.
This time face shifted between Catherine and Ruth.
She woke panicked.
At eight years old, her parents told:
“A confused woman thought you were someone else.”
Lacey asked:
“Why Lucy?”
Daniel said:
“Sometimes adults make mistakes.”
Then moved.
The name became threat because it predicted upheaval.
Not because infant memory.
Because childhood adults taught her:
Lucy means danger.
Catherine had unknowingly activated conditioning.
Lacey realized.
She called Dr. Maya Flores, therapist she had seen years earlier after Daniel’s death.
“I need appointment.”
Within week they worked.
Maya said:
“Your panic is not evidence Catherine dangerous.”
“It is evidence name linked to threat.”
“Threat was parents moving.”
“And adults withholding.”
Lacey nodded.
“Can I reclaim name?”
“You don’t need.”
“Lacey is yours.”
This mattered.
She did not have to become Lucy to solve.
At end session, Maya asked:
“What would make DNA possible?”
Lacey thought.
“Control.”
“Independent lab.”
“No Catherine staff.”
“No surprise contact.”
“I receive result first.”
“I decide when tell.”
“That sounds concrete.”
Lacey went home.
Opened Catherine’s file again.
Found photo of Jonathan holding Lucy.
She stared at his hands.
Long fingers.
Her own hands similar?
Maybe imagination.
She closed.
Then emailed Nora:
Find a lab where I control release. I want to know process. Not saying yes yet.
Nora replied:
Will do.
Across Princeton, Catherine sat with Helena, younger sister.
Helena asked:
“Why not push DNA?”
Catherine looked.
“Because Beatrice spent years deciding what was best for Lucy without Lucy.”
“If Lacey is her, I will not begin same.”
Helena stared.
“You’ve changed.”
“No.”
“I’ve had twenty-six years to learn one lesson.”
The next morning Lacey received independent lab options.
She stared.
Fear rose.
She remembered school fence.
Boxes.
Name.
Then Catherine’s voice:
You direct.
Lacey opened calendar.
Not yet.
May you like
But soon.
The truth was becoming harder to avoid than the fear of it.
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