Only six hours left.

I held my head in my hands, praying we would find something.

The threat of the psychiatric report hung over me like a guillotine.

If we failed, I would have to sign the papers.

I would have to give up my daughters to save them from being taken by force.

“Richard,” I said softly.

“Yes, Emily?”

“What if we can’t prove it in time?”

He looked at me, his expression resolute.

“Then we go to court and we fight,” he said.

“I will bring my own team of doctors to evaluate you.”

“We will expose Dr. Sterling’s history.”

“But the judge might still grant the temporary custody order,” I said.

“They would take the girls tomorrow.”

“I won’t let them leave this house,” Richard said.

The sheer confidence in his voice was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

We sat in silence, waiting.

The rain began to slacken, turning into a steady, gray drizzle.

At exactly five-thirty in the morning, Nora’s laptop chimed.

A new email had arrived.

Nora clicked on it, her fingers flying across the keyboard.