My pregnant daughter ran into my office, her face covered in fresh b:ruises. Her husband, a beloved local politician, casually strolled in behind her, shutting the door.

tiny arms raised. The bruise on her cheek vanished long ago. The fear inside her eyes took longer.

But eventually, that disappeared too.

Outside, the city moved beneath us — bright, loud, alive.

After Grant, my network changed. We built an investigative division focused on domestic abuse ignored by powerful institutions. We funded legal aid. We trained continue reading …