At 11:43 p.m., Elise Hart saw a child in a hospital gown running through the rain with an IV pole clattering behind her.

The recovery room was filled with the soft glow of afternoon sunlight filtering through the window blinds.

Willa was sitting up in bed, looking infinitely better than she had two days prior. The deadly pale tint of her skin was slowly giving way to a hint of natural color, and though she still had IV lines running to her chest, her eyes were bright and alert.

Theo was sitting on the edge of her bed, carefully arranging a set of plastic dinosaur figures on her rolling tray table.

“And this one is the T-Rex,” Theo explained with serious intensity, holding up a green plastic figure. “He guards the bed so bad people can’t come in.”

Willa smiled softly, stroking her little brother’s hair. “Good job, Theo. Keep him on guard.”

When Elise stepped into the room, Willa’s face lit up completely.

“Elise!” Willa called out.

Elise walked over, mindful of her growing belly, and leaned down to gently hug the little girl. “Look at you! Sitting up and commanding your dinosaur army.”

“The doctor said my blood numbers are going back up,” Willa said proudly. “He said if I eat all my soup today, I can move out of ICU tomorrow!”

“That’s incredible news, Willa,” Elise said, seating herself in the visitor’s chair.

Sarah stood near the window, watching her two children interact with a mix of love and lingering anxiety. She looked at Elise, a sudden thought striking her.

“Elise,” Sarah began hesitate. “The district attorney’s office called me earlier. They said Richard’s preliminary bail hearing is set for tomorrow morning. They asked if I wanted to make a statement, but... I don't know if I can face him in that courtroom. Every time I look at him, I freeze.”

Elise looked at Sarah, feeling a deep wave of empathy. The psychological paralysis caused by years of abuse was a powerful, terrible thing.

“You don't have to face him alone, Sarah,” Elise said gently. “I will be sitting right behind you. And if you don't feel you can speak, ADA Vance and I will speak for you.”

Suddenly, the door opened, and a tall, sharp-looking man in a tailored grey suit stepped into the room. He carried a leather briefcase and had a serious, professional demeanor.

“Mrs. Byrne?” the man asked politely.

Sarah immediately tensed, taking a step toward her children. “Yes? Who are you?”

“My name is David Miller,” the man said, pulling a business card from his pocket and handing it to Sarah. “I am a senior partner at Miller & Associates. I was contacted yesterday by the Family Advocacy Center.”

Elise’s eyes widened slightly. The Family Advocacy Center—the very organization she used to volunteer for.

“I heard about your case,” Mr. Miller continued, his voice calm and reassuring. “And more importantly, I heard about the attempt by Richard Byrne’s defense team to revictimize you in the press and press for low bail.”

“Are you... a lawyer?” Sarah asked confusedly.

“I am a pro bono family law and victim advocacy attorney,” Miller said with a warm, genuine smile. “I am here to offer my services to you, Mrs. Byrne, completely free of charge. We are going to ensure that your restraining orders are made permanent, that Richard’s parental rights are terminated completely, and that he remains behind bars where he belongs.”

Sarah blinked, stunned by the sudden appearance of such a high-caliber ally. She looked at Elise, who was smiling broadly.

“Did you do this, Elise?” Sarah asked, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“I might have made a phone call to my old director at the Advocacy Center yesterday,” Elise admitted with a subtle wink. “I told them we had a family that needed the absolute best legal shield in the city.”

Mr. Miller looked at Elise, nodding with deep respect. “And Mrs. Hart, your detailed notes and timeline of events from that night have already given us an airtight argument against bail. Together, we are going to close every single loophole Richard’s defense tries to jump through.”