Chapter 16 - THE STUFFED PUPPY
Neriah named the stuffed puppy Baxter.
I had forgotten.
Eliana bought it when Neriah was two.
After the assault, Baxter went everywhere.
School.
Therapy.
Car.
Breakfast.
One teacher suggested gradually reducing dependence.
Maya said:
“Why?”
Good question.
Baxter was not harming anything.
Eventually Neriah stopped carrying him naturally.
No forced independence.
At nine, Baxter sat mostly on her bed.
At ten, he went into a drawer.
At eleven, Neriah pulled him out during a thunderstorm.
No one mocked her.
Prisca had tried to teach her that fear made her unreliable.
We taught the opposite.
Fear can exist beside truth.
That became important when Neriah began doubting her own memory.
“Did Grandma really sit on me?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe I was being bad.”
“No.”
“Maybe she thought I stole the key.”
“She did think you had the key.”
“So?”
“That did not give her permission.”
“What if the secret was really important?”
“Still no.”
“What if the company would break?”
“Still no.”
She smiled faintly.
“You always say still no.”
“Useful phrase.”
Then:
“Did Mom know Grandma was bad?”
I resisted.
“Your mom knew Grandma could become controlling.”
“Was Grandma always bad?”
“No.”
That mattered.
Prisca had loved Neriah.
Bought her books.
Sat through dance recitals.
Made elaborate birthday cakes.
Also pinned her to a floor.
Humans do not need to be evil every minute for boundaries to become necessary.
Neriah asked:
“Can both be true?”
“Yes.”
May you like
She hated that.
So did I.
