The line went dead. I stood on the porch of my quiet street, holding a baby my own sister had discarded like a faulty product. My tears fell onto Nora’s knit hat as I whispered a new promise: “I’ve got you. I will never let you go.”
THE FIGHT FOR NORA’S HEART
The weeks that followed were a blur of adrenaline and agony. My mother arrived in a state of shock, helping me navigate the legal and medical storm that followed. We took Nora to the hospital immediately. The doctors confirmed a congenital heart defect—serious, requiring surgery, but fixable.
