What was supposed to be a normal family BBQ turned into the worst moment of my life. One second my daughter Emily was laughing on the swings, and the next, a scream cut through the yard. I turned and saw her lying at the bottom of the play structure, completely still.

The ambulance ride was a blur. At the hospital, doctors rushed her away and told me she was unresponsive. I sat beside her tiny body for hours, holding her hand, trying not to fall apart.

Then my son Lucas came close, face pale. “Mom… I know what happened,” he whispered.

Before he could say more, a doctor pulled me aside. “Her injuries don’t look like a simple fall.”

My stomach dropped.

Back in the room, I asked Lucas to tell me everything. He shook as he said, “It wasn’t an accident. Ethan—Aunt Claire’s boyfriend—pulled her and pushed her off. He told me not to tell.”

I didn’t hesitate. I went straight to the nurses’ station and reported it. Security, social workers, and police stepped in. Lucas told them everything, and the doctors confirmed his story.

As the sun came up, I held Emily’s hand again. She was fighting for her life.

And now, I was fighting for her too.