A doctor showed me an X-ray of my daughter’s face and quietly explained that her jaw had been sh:attere:d in six places. Hours earlier, she had been a normal college student. Now she lay in a hospital bed, unable to speak, unable to explain what happened. I had survived war zones and battlefield cha0s, but nothing could prepare me for the night I learned someone had nearly b:eat:en my little girl to d:ea:th.

But the part that mattered most happened later that afternoon. Lisa woke after reconstructive surgery with her jaw wired shut. I sat beside her while Rachel displayed photographs one at a time. Lisa squeezed my hand when Naomi appeared on the screen, and she squeezed again for Derrick. Then she typed on a digital tablet with her swollen fingers.