I cried like a child. Wyatt held me carefully, and for the first time, crying didn’t feel like pain. It felt like air coming back into my lungs.

The weeks that followed were slow—legal statements, photographs, minor surgeries, meetings with lawyers.

The electrician testified that my father had tried to stop the 911 call. The neighbor across the street told police she’d seen the exact moment Gregory lifted the brick.

The security footage showed the whole attack. The notes proved it was planned.

My parents and Melanie tried to sell the judge a story about a family misunderstanding. When they saw the evidence stacked up, they gave up and took plea bargains to avoid a long trial and longer sentences.

The judge weighed the premeditation, the severity of the injuries, and the witness intimidation. They received long prison sentences, permanent restraining orders, and an order to pay every cent of my medical bills.