Chapter 8: The Psychologist's Report
Rachel's office was on the fourth floor of a building near the city center, with a view of a car park and, beyond it, a slice of grey sky.
She had the report on the desk when Daniel arrived.
"Dr.
Miriam Cole," Rachel said, sliding it across.
"Victoria hired her the day after you spoke to Dr.
Holt.
The report was completed in forty-eight hours, which is — let's say unusual for a thorough psychological assessment."
Daniel read the first page.
The language was careful and clinical, but the conclusion was clear: Emma Marsh, aged 7, displays response patterns consistent with coached disclosure.
Parental influence cannot be ruled out.
"She's saying I put Emma up to this."
"That's what the report implies, yes."
"Emma told Dr.
Holt things that I didn't even know.
She described incidents I had no knowledge of."
"I know.
And that's our strongest counter-argument." Rachel leaned forward.
"Here's what matters.
Children's services have their own assessment process.
They use trained professionals who are specifically experienced in distinguishing coached testimony from genuine disclosure.
Dr.
Cole's report is a private document commissioned by the opposing party — the court will weigh it accordingly."
"Will it slow things down?"
"It may.
Victoria's solicitor will use it to request a delay in any interim orders." Rachel paused.
"There's also something else.
Victoria has applied for Emma to be returned to the family home with both parents present while the assessment is ongoing."
"She wants to come back."
"She wants to be in the house.
With Emma."
Daniel looked at the report on the desk.
"Can she do that?"
"She can apply.
The court will look at the risk level.
Given the referral and the recording, I believe we can successfully oppose it.
But I want you prepared for the possibility that this takes longer than either of us would like."
He was quiet for a moment.
"She went to a private psychologist two days after I took Emma to the doctor," he said.
"She had a report ready in forty-eight hours."
"Yes."
"She was already planning this before I even called you."
Rachel looked at him steadily.
"Yes, Daniel.
I think she was."
He drove home in silence.
Emma was at school.
The house was quiet in the particular way it had been quiet since Victoria left — not peaceful exactly, but still.
Like something holding its breath.
He went to the kitchen and opened his laptop.
He had backed the recording up to three separate places the night after he first watched it.
Now he opened the file and watched it again from the beginning.
He watched Emma walk in with her mixing bowl.
He watched Victoria follow.
He watched the moment Emma's shoulders tightened.
He paused the recording on the frame where Emma was reaching back to touch her own head, after Victoria had released her.
The image was small and slightly blurred at the edges.
But it was there.
He took a screenshot and sent it to Rachel with a single line: *Timestamp 14:32.
Emma touching the back of her head immediately after.*
Rachel replied within four minutes: *Already noted.
Keep everything.*
That evening, Emma came home from school with a painting she'd made in art class.
It was a picture of two people holding hands.
One was tall.
One was small with yellow hair.
"That's us," Emma said, pointing to the tall one.
"And that's me."
She pointed to the small one with the yellow hair.
"I know," Daniel said.
"It's beautiful."
She taped it to the fridge with three pieces of tape, pressing each one down firmly.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
A message from Victoria: *I made a mistake hiring Dr.
Cole.
I want to talk.
Just us.
Please.*
May you like
He stared at the message for a long moment.
Then he forwarded it to Rachel and put his phone in his pocket.
