Chapter 4 - YOU'RE TOO ANXIOUS
Diane had spent months telling Claire she was anxious.
Not clinically.
Casually.
Weaponized.
If Claire called the pediatrician:
“You panic over everything.”
If Claire asked Diane to avoid certain foods:
“You need to relax.”
If Claire wanted Noah’s sleep routine followed:
“You’re making him neurotic.”
One evening Noah came home unusually limp with sleep.
Claire woke him gently.
He fussed.
Diane laughed.
“See? You ruined his rest.”
Claire apologized.
Now she remembered the apology with anger.
Then Daniel Bennett—Claire’s husband and Diane’s son—arrived at the hospital from a work trip.
He saw Noah.
Saw Claire.
Saw Diane.
“What happened?”
Claire answered:
“Your mother gave him medicine without telling us.”
Daniel looked at Diane.
Diane immediately said:
“She’s making it sound worse than it was.”
Claire stared.
Daniel asked:
“Mom, what did you give him?”
Diane named it.
Daniel’s face tightened.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
Dr. Patel interrupted.
“We are not going to reconstruct dosing by argument. We need accurate product information and timing.”
Diane said:
“I didn’t measure like a pharmacist.”
Claire nearly lost control.
Then Daniel asked:
“How many times?”
Diane said:
“Maybe two.”
Claire held up the nap log.
“Try again.”
Diane’s face changed.
Daniel looked at Claire.
“What is that?”
She explained.
Edited naps.
False messages.
Three-hour sleeps called forty-five minutes.
Daniel turned toward his mother.
“Why would you change the times?”
Diane snapped:
“Because Claire would have panicked.”
Claire answered:
“I would have known something was wrong.”
“That is exactly what I mean.”
There it was.
Diane believed Claire’s concern was the problem.
Not the behavior creating the concern.
Then Daniel went quiet.
Claire noticed.
“You knew she thought I was anxious.”
He nodded.
“Did you ever tell her to stop?”
Silence.
That was another problem.
Then Dr. Patel returned with an update.
Noah was stabilizing.
Observation would continue.
But he wanted one thing urgently.
“The bottle.”
Diane stared.
“What bottle?”
“The medication you used.”
“I threw it away.”
Claire looked at her.
May you like
Diane had lied again.
Because Claire suddenly remembered seeing a bottle in Diane’s handbag that morning.
