Chapter 6 - THE AFFIDAVITS
Six relatives had drafted statements.
Not filed yet.
Drafted.
That distinction mattered.
Tove’s attorney had interviewed them.
Bryn.
Uncle Peter.
Cousin Marla.
Aunt Elise.
Two others.
Their statements sounded devastating when read quickly.
Cullen travels frequently.
True.
Tove often provides care.
True.
Mireya becomes distressed when Cullen leaves.
True.
Multiple inhalers have been misplaced.
True.
Cullen can be intimidating when angry.
True.
I had just slapped my sister in front of witnesses.
Also true.
Then conclusions.
Tove provides calmer medical judgment.
Tove has a stabilizing maternal role.
Cullen’s grief may interfere with objective decisions.
Those were opinions.
Built on facts selected by Tove.
Bryn met me first.
Neutral attorney office.
No shouting.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I believed her.”
“Did you see me neglect Mireya?”
“No.”
“Did you ever see me refuse medication?”
“No.”
“Did you see Tove?”
Her eyes filled.
“At the family gathering.”
“What about before?”
“No.”
“Then why were you going to sign?”
“Tove showed me messages she said were from the pediatrician.”
My pulse changed.
“What messages?”
Screenshots.
Supposedly Dr. Brooks saying:
Mireya’s symptoms appear disproportionately anxiety-driven.
Rescue inhaler should not become a behavioral reassurance tool.
The first sentence had some basis in a clinical discussion.
The second?
Dr. Brooks denied writing it.
Forensic review showed screenshot text had been edited.
Not a sophisticated fake.
A cropped message with inserted wording.
Tove had shown relatives altered medical communications.
That became serious.
Then Uncle Peter.
He admitted:
“Tove told me child services had already warned you.”
“They haven’t.”
“I know now.”
“Did she show proof?”
“No.”
“Why believe her?”
Peter looked ashamed.
“Because you scare people.”
That surprised me.
“I scare people?”
“You’re… Cullen.”
Wonderful legal category.
I owned a large company.
Six-foot-three.
Broad.
Rarely smiled when irritated.
People interpreted.
Tove apparently used that.
“She said no one would confront you unless the family stood together.”
There.
She created a moral coalition.
Not by inventing everything.
By framing herself as the only person brave enough to protect Mireya from me.
Then Marla said something important.
“Tove told us Mireya’s mother wanted her to have a formal role.”
I went still.
“Annelise?”
“Yes.”
“Did she show anything?”
“A letter.”
My heart dropped.
What letter?
Tove produced a photocopy.
Handwritten.
Annelise’s name at bottom.
If anything ever happens to me, I hope Tove remains deeply involved in Mireya’s life. She loves her like her own.
Could be real.
It sounded like Annelise despite their friction.
Deeply involved.
Not custody.
Not primary parent.
Still emotionally powerful.
Where did Tove get it?
A sympathy letter Annelise wrote after Tove helped during Mireya’s first hospitalization.
Real.
Selective.
Tove presented a statement of gratitude as a parental wish.
Naomi said:
“Context matters.”
Yes.
Then the family court notice arrived.
Not a petition yet.
A prefiling mediation request.
Tove wanted:
temporary shared legal authority over Mireya’s medical care.
Structured parenting time.
Independent assessment of my capacity to manage chronic illness.
She had softened the goal.
Why?
Because the inhaler incident damaged her position.
But Naomi looked at the attached reservation of rights.
“What?”
“She reserves the right to seek primary kinship placement.”
There.
Still alive.
Then one sentence in Tove’s filing caught me.
Petitioner has additional evidence concerning events occurring during Cullen’s absences that will be presented if informal resolution fails.
Additional evidence.
I looked at Naomi.
May you like
“What else has she been staging?”
We were about to find out.
