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Lorraine lifted my newborn from the blankets. She didn\u2019t cradle her; she held her like an object. She carried my daughter toward the large window overlooking the street. Before I could process the nightmare unfolding, she wrenched the window open, forcing the safety mechanism that normally limited the opening to just a few inches until it snapped.<\/p>\n
The window swung wide. We were on the fourth floor.<\/p>\n
My entire body went cold, frozen in a paralysis of horror as she adjusted her grip on Natalie, positioning her closer to the gaping opening.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive us the credit card,\u201d my mother said, her voice eerily calm, contrasting with the madness in her eyes. \u201cGive it to us right now, or I\u2019ll drop her.\u201d<\/p>\n
The world narrowed down to the terrified cry of my daughter and the open air beneath her feet.<\/p>\n
Time seemed to slow down, stretching into an agonizing infinity. My newborn baby, barely four hours old, dangled in my mother\u2019s arms, the wind from outside ruffling the edge of her hospital blanket. The nurses stood frozen, their medical training never having prepared them for a grandmother threatening to murder her own grandchild.<\/p>\n