It wasn’t a tragic, unavoidable family accident. It wasn’t a he-said-she-said dispute.
It was a crime scene, perfectly documented by the perpetrators themselves.
Over the next agonizing week, while I sat day and night in a sterile, plastic chair beside my daughter’s incubator in the NICU, watching her tiny chest rise and fall under a tangle of wires and tubes, Aaron and I went to war.
We didn’t just rely on the criminal justice system to punish them. We wanted total, absolute annihilation.
We retained Mr. Sterling, the most ruthless, aggressive personal injury and civil rights attorney in the state. We didn’t just press criminal charges; we filed a massive, multi-pronged civil lawsuit. We sued my mother’s homeowner’s insurance policy for extreme premises liability and gross negligence, and we sued Nicole directly, as an individual, for intentional infliction of severe emotional distress, failure to render aid, and catastrophic medical damages that were quickly exceeding two million dollars.
We were going to burn their entire superficial world to the ground, and we were going to use their own video to light the match.
