I woke beneath harsh hospital lights to the sound of my newborn daughter screaming beside me. Alive. That was all that mattered. I named her Nora before Evan even arrived.

When he finally appeared with his mother Patricia beside him, I remembered everything instantly — the shove, the snow, the blood, and the way they drove away while I begged for help.

“You left me bleeding outside,” I whispered.

Patricia rolled her eyes and called me emotional, but I looked directly at Evan and calmly promised them something neither of them expected: evidence-