Vivienne had built another layer.
My prenatal records contained three references to balance problems.
Real references.
At twenty-three weeks I became dizzy after standing too quickly.
At twenty-five weeks I tripped on a rug.
At twenty-seven weeks I told my obstetrician I felt clumsy as my center of gravity changed.
Normal pregnancy complaints.
Vivienne had attended one appointment because Adrian was traveling.
She listened closely.
Afterward:
“See? Even the doctor says you fall.”
The doctor had not said that.
She said balance changes can occur in pregnancy and advised normal precautions.
Then whenever a bruise appeared, Vivienne connected it to the record.
“You tripped.”
“No.”
“You’ve been unsteady.”
“This is from Adrian.”
“But if someone asks, how do you know exactly where every mark came from?”
That technique worked on me for longer than I want to admit.
Not direct denial.
Blur certainty.
Then Adrian began using the same language.
“You bruise if someone touches you.”
“You’re always bumping furniture.”
“You nearly fell last week.”
Facts arranged around a lie.
By the time of the gaming interview, they had a ready explanation supported by unrelated medical notes.
Not forged.
Misused.
That became important later.
You do not need fake documents when you can distort real ones.
