“I ran to my mother’s house with the boys, Hannah, and the files are completely gone.”

I sank down onto our living room sofa, feeling as if our last remaining lifeline had snapped in the wind.

The night before the final medical hearing, a pounding autumn rainstorm hammered the roof of our house.

Brian sat at the dining room table going over his medical notes under the dim lamp while Emma slept peacefully upstairs.

At midnight, a loud, frantic banging shook our front door.

Brian opened the heavy wooden door and found Paul Miller standing on the wet porch, soaked through from head to toe.