The call came at 2:47 p.m. on an ordinary Tuesday, right in the middle of my shift at the bank. I was sitting at my desk in a quiet corner, scanning loan applications and trying not to think about the custody order that had ripped my 8-year-old daughter out of my daily life. My phone buzzed with an unknown number. “Miss Patterson?” a calm but urgent woman’s voice asked. “Your daughter Mia has been admitted to County General. She’s stable, but in serious condition with th!rd-dgr33 brns on both ha