We fully funded independent forensic medical examinations.

We provided secure, undisclosed emergency housing. We offered encrypted, cloud-based evidence storage for victims still trapped in the home, and we provided a fleet of ruthless pro-bono attorneys.

Within the first twelve months, forty-one major hospitals across the tri-state area had adopted our protocols.

My very first client was a terrified twenty-two-year-old woman whose wealthy, influential husband had claimed she’d “tripped and fallen” face-first onto a glowing electric stove.

She sat across the desk in my new corner office, clutching a paper cup of tea, her hands trembling so violently the liquid spilled over the edges.

“They won’t believe me,” she whispered, tears cutting tracks through the bandages on her cheek. “He’s a respected banker. They’ll just say I’m crazy. He told everyone I’m unstable.”