Chapter 6 - The Phantom Mistakes

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The psychological erosion was so gradual that Nora barely noticed the ground giving way beneath her feet.
It started with small, trivial details. Preston would move her car keys from the hook near the front door to her coat pocket, then watch silently as she spent twenty minutes frantically searching the house. When she finally found them, he would shake his head with pity and whisper, "You really need to slow down, Nora. Your mind is all over the place."
Then came the medical appointments.
Preston gently insisted that Nora see Dr. Leonard Voss, a high-profile psychiatrist specializing in complicated grief and prenatal mood disorders. Dr. Voss was warm, reassuring, and impeccably soft-spoken.
"Grief during pregnancy can trigger severe cognitive fog and delusional anxiety, Mrs. Caldwell," Dr. Voss told her during their third session, taking neat notes on his tablet. "Your husband is deeply concerned. He says you've been accusing him of hiding financial papers."
"He is hiding them!" Nora had insisted, her voice rising in frustration. "I found a draft agreement transferring my mother's cabin to a limited liability company I've never heard of!"
Dr. Voss had exchanged a long, meaningful look with Preston, who sat in the corner of the office looking utterly heart-broken.
"Nora," Preston said gently, reaching out to stroke her hand. "That was just an exploratory tax draft we discussed with Celeste last month. You signed off on the review yourself."
"I never signed anything!" Nora cried.
"You see, Doctor?" Preston sighed, burying his face in his hands. "She completely forgets our conversations. And then she gets angry and accuses me of conspiring against her."
Dr. Voss adjusted his glasses and prescribed a daily regimen of heavy anti-anxiety medication. He warned Nora that refusing the medication could harm her baby’s stress levels.
The pills made Nora feel like she was floating through thick, grey mud. Her reaction times slowed, her memory grew hazy, and her energy vanished. Every time she tried to question Preston about bank transfers, the fog in her brain made it impossible to construct a coherent argument.
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Preston began keeping a private journal, meticulous logs recording every time Nora misplaced an item, shed tears over her mother, or raised her voice in anger. He had household staff sign daily logs detailing her "erratic behavior."
He was building a cage out of paper, brick by careful brick.