My heart hammered against my ribs, the pain in my lower abdomen flaring up from the sudden tension.

“Tomorrow?” I asked. “I can barely walk.”

“You won’t have to walk far,” Victoria said, her face setting into hard lines. “I will have a wheelchair ready for you. We are going to that courthouse.”

I looked down at the text message still glowing on my screen.

*Don’t make us prove how crazy you really are.*

My grip tightened on the plastic casing of the phone until my knuckles turned white.

“We go,” I said, looking at Thomas. “We don’t let them take him.”

Thomas nodded slowly, his face grim. “I’ll be there, Emma. Every step of the way.”

The night passed in a blur of fluorescent lights, blood pressure cuffs, and the quiet rustle of paper as Victoria and Laura organized our evidence.

By eight the next morning, the rain was streaking the windows of the hospital room, a cold Denver drizzle that matched the gray stone of the downtown courthouse.

The nurse helped me into a wheelchair, adjusting the thick blanket Laura had brought to cover my legs.