For the first time since walking into the room, Hannibal's face showed something other than the complete professionalism that he'd carried. Now, it broke with a smile.
"Can I not?" He asked the girl sitting in front of him. "Your answers might have spirited another down the path toward the diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. You are brash and reckless, living at the whim of your desires and, more importantly, the desires of others. You have no regard for yourself as a being, not when it gets down to it. I'm not saying that you dislike yourself, Enigma, but you don't consider yourself worthy of the many things that you have in life. Even your talents and abilities are thrown about as if they are nothing special. Whatever is seen in you, you do not see yourself. You are paranoid of others, them hurting you or betraying you, you do not trust, and you do not give much of yourself to anybody. I would venture to say that you give only so much to each person you encounter, laying yourself out like a scattered puzzle so that no one person has access to the whole picture.
"They told me that your name is Effie, though that's the only information that I walked in here with. Yet you gave another, Enigma, when asked. This name is the persona that you wish to be. She is not what you have always been. She is what you grew into. Effie is a long forgotten, lost little girl. Weak. Powerless. Nothing in the eyes of the world. You wanted to be somebody else, and so you rebranded yourself in a way."
Hannibal's voice remained casual, as if this were a regular throw away conversation about the weather. His eyes were intent, though.
"You are quick to anger, easily pushed to the line of it. But the rest of your emotions are no more stable. You fluctuated between your affected self assured attitude that everything about you should be obvious to sadness and then a careful blankness you thought would keep me from seeing inside of you with ease. You are no more in control of your emotions than a sheep is of the fact it has wool.
"All of these are markers of Borderline Personality Disorder, perhaps even a classic example of it. If this was all that I saw, I would happily mark you down as such in the report I will have to write up later. However, I saw more than that in you. I saw a girl who casually speaks of the fact her father wants her dead as if it were true of every family, and not some Shakespearean plot device. You are sad that your father wants to kill you, and yet you strive to make him proud of you. You want him to give you whatever attention he has in it to give, no matter if it's negative.
"You are married to a man because of his love for you, and not because he makes you happy. The truth of that is, he cannot make you happy. Not really. You coo at him and you do all the things that is expected of a woman in love, but you don't truly feel it. You might have gained some affection for him over time, and indeed, some respect, but that's not what drew you. His love, that's all you desired. That's what you need. The man that you truly care for does not return those feelings. I'm willing to bet that the woman that he is with currently is the culmination of his desires, a long held need that he's had which has only been fairly recently achieved.
"You seek approval from everybody you encounter. You change like water to flow over the path that you need to in order to fit what they want from you. You will do what you have to do to fit, however precariously, into whatever hole they wish you to fit into. Instead of giving yourself, however, which would hurt infinitely more if it were rejected, you give the figment of a being. The trace of a human. The small piece of the puzzle.
"You, Enigma, are not Borderline Personality Disorder. You are just a girl who wishes to be loved and who cannot allow it to happen. You are more than competent to face trial."