An ambulance arrived with screaming sirens and whisked the baby away to the hospital. The parents called me a hero. I went home feeling anxious but undeniably proud of what I’d done.

One week later, a sharp knock echoed through my apartment. I opened the door to find a man in a crisp suit handing me a thick manila envelope. I ripped it open, thinking perhaps the parents had sent a thank you letter, maybe even a reward. Instead, I saw the stark, official heading of lawsuit papers.

Apparently, the impact from me catching the child had broken both of his arms and legs. He was alive but in critical condition, and his parents, the same people who had hailed me as a hero, were now suing me for two million dollars.