Part 2: My husband bound me with rope while I was in active labor to force me into signing divorce papers, completely unaware that his stolen phone was auto-dialing emergency services inside the wall.

“Someone wired the total bail amount directly from an offshore holding company registered in Delaware,” Vance said, leaning forward. “Both bonds were posted simultaneously through a high-profile bail bondsman out of Atlanta. Daniel’s older brother, Richard.”

I gripped the bedrail, the white gauze on my wrists pulling tight. “Richard hasn't spoken to Daniel in seven years. Richard hated Daniel.”

“Apparently not enough to let him rot in a county cell,” Vance replied grimly. “The release conditions are strict. Both Daniel and Patricia are fitted with GPS ankle monitors. There is a lifetime emergency protection order in place. They are legally barred from coming within one thousand feet of you, this hospital, or any facility where your daughter is receiving care.”

“Ankle monitors didn't stop him from tying me up in my own living room!” My voice rose, waking Maya, who let out a small, fussy whimper in her bassinet. I immediately reached over, gently rocking the plastic tub until she settled again.

“Emily, listen to me,” Vance said firmly. “I have two officers posted on this floor, and your discharge will be conducted through the secure ambulance bay with an escort directly to a confidential domestic violence transition apartment. We also found Patricia’s purse in the living room during the search warrant execution. There was something inside that didn't make sense.”

Vance pulled out a second evidence bag and handed it to me.