My father hired a prominent defense attorney and put out a statement calling it a tragic family misunderstanding. Beth posted that pregnancy stress had left me emotionally unstable — then came to my hospital room in oversized designer sunglasses, carrying a bouquet of yellow roses.

She dropped the flowers in the trash bin outside my door before she stepped inside.

“You need to drop the criminal complaint,” Beth said, arms crossed. “Mom could actually go to prison.”

“She nearly killed my daughter,” I said.

Beth’s mouth curled. “Your baby survived anyway, so stop acting like you’re so special.”

I reached down and pressed the nurse call button tucked under my blanket.