“Mr Farrell, did you take money in exchange for allowing Mr Glosser to sexually abuse your daughter?”
“No,” Max replied, pretending to be appalled. “Absolutely not.”
“How was your relationship with Oakley affected once she stopped talking?”
His eyes tore from the lawyer, and he blinked hard a few times.
Jasper glared.
“It was never quite the same. I still loved her just as much, of course, but part of her had closed off to us all. She no longer squealed in delight when I threw her in the air or ran around the back garden with her on my shoulders. She couldn’t talk, and I stopped hearing her say, ‘I love you,Daddy.’” He paused and took a deep breath. “It broke my heart.”
Fuck. You.
I gripped the seat, my fingertips digging into the wood, silently praying to a God I didn’t believe in to show the jury the truth.
Linda rocked back on her heels. “Mr Farrell, why do you think Oakley stopped talking?”
“I believe she has histrionic personality disorder.”
What?
Jasper’s head snapped to me, and he frowned, his dumbfounded expression mirroring mine. What the fuck was that?
Linda didn’t look at all surprised by this disorder Max had just thrown out of his mouth. “People with histrionic personality disorder—HPD—typically have extravagant and lively personalities, Mr Farrell.”
She had been ready for it.
Max tilted his head to the side. “Sufferers tend to have dramatic behaviour,” he corrected. “Oakley was a very lively child, but with a sibling, she could never have the majority of our attention—until she stopped talking. People with histrionic personality disorder also act out a role, that of a character or a victim.”
I looked to Jasper, panicked. Shit, he’d found something that could explain her behaviour. Jasper stared at the jury with wide eyes, willing them to see through Max’s crap.
This isn’t good.
“Mr Farrell, you state that you’ve spent the best part of fifteen years trying to figure out what was wrong with your daughter. Is that correct?” Linda asked.
“Yes.”
“Hmm, then, it seems rather odd that you’ve only come across this disorderafteryour arrest.”
Yes!
Max said nothing. He blinked rapidly.
“I’ve been looking over your police statements, and nothing was mentioned then, either. Your wife also had no idea about this. I have her statements.”
“My ex-wife and I spent hours on the Internet, searching selective mutism and damaged vocal cords. We didn’t know what to do. We visited countless doctors and specialists in that field, and not one of them mentioned histrionic personality disorder. When Oakley went to the police with her claim, I realised there was something more to it—that she hadchosennot to speak. My searches changed, and that was when I found HPD.”
“Bullshit,” I whispered.
“Hmm. So, why do you think she spoke out, then? You say you believe that Oakley fabricated this story to gain attention, but she was away with you, getting your full attention. Why would she have felt the need to act out in that moment?”
“I told her that Mr Glosser was coming for the weekend, and she was unhappy, to say the least. I hadn’t seen Frank in a while, and he was in town. Oakley’s withdrawn behaviour told me that she didn’t want him to come. I’d told her it was just going to be us. I assume that was when she created her story. She had been excited about the trip, brought two backpacks full of marshmallows. When I told her that Frank was coming, she dumped the marshmallows in the bin and wouldn’t make eye contact with me. Rapid shift in emotions is very typical in HPD.”
I looked at Jasper again, and he stared at his father with pure hatred.
The jury couldn’t fall for that.
They couldn’t.
