I had only been asleep for about forty minutes when my phone lit up the dark room, pulling me out of a deep, much-needed rest.

At sixty-three, sleep doesn’t come easily anymore. Even when I’m exhausted, I wake at the smallest sound. That night in Tallahassee, I had finally drifted into a heavy sleep when the glow of my phone signaled something was wrong.

After more than three decades as a family attorney, I had learned one thing—calls in the middle of the night rarely bring good news.