The Story Derek Wanted Everyone to Believe
Derek’s attorney stood.
“Mrs. Hollis has demonstrated a pattern of emotional instability. She works irregular hours at a neighborhood pharmacy, frequently appears overwhelmed, and several neighbors have reported hearing arguments from inside the residence.”
I stared at him. Every statement contained just enough truth to make the rest sound believable.
Yes, I worked irregular shifts. I had taken extra evening hours after Derek moved out because someone had to pay the mortgage, utilities, groceries, school costs, and everything else.
Yes, I had cried. I had cried when I discovered our joint savings account almost empty. I had cried when I realized money from Callie’s small college fund was missing too.
And yes, neighbors had occasionally heard me raising my voice. What nobody knew was why.
For months, strange things had been happening inside my house. My keys would disappear and appear in different places. Food in the refrigerator would be rearranged. Important papers vanished from the desk and later turned up inside drawers I knew I had checked. I would wake up convinced I had left something in one place, only to find it somewhere completely different.
At first, I blamed exhaustion. Then I began blaming myself. That frightened me more than anything. My mother had spent the final years of her life struggling with serious memory problems, and Derek knew it was one of my deepest fears.
Whenever I mentioned something strange, he gave me the same concerned expression.
“Natalie, are you sure you’re remembering correctly?”
Or:
“Maybe you should talk to someone. You’ve been under a lot of pressure.”
Over time, I stopped trusting my own memory.
