Mr. Miller used a silver letter opener to slice the top of the envelope.

He pulled out three sheets of paper with the hospital’s blue logo at the top.

My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe.

Leo’s grip on my shoulder tightened, his fingers warm and solid through my thin cotton blouse.

“What is it, Grace?” Leo whispered, his eyes fixed on the papers.

I shook my head, my eyes watering from the tension in the room.

“I don’t know,” I whispered back.

Mr. Miller scanned the pages, his eyebrows drawing together until they almost met.

He looked over at Josephine and Melanie, his face hardening.

“Your Honor, I ask permission to approach the bench and present this new evidence,” Mr. Miller said.

“Objection,” Josephine’s lawyer said, rising slowly from his chair.

“The evidence is already closed, and this is highly irregular.”

The judge raised her hand, silencing him immediately.

“Overruled,” the judge said.

“In matters concerning the safety of an infant, this court will examine all relevant medical data.”

“Mr. Miller, bring the documents forward.”