Toscano, Biniazan and Breit Deliver Justice to a Teacher Shot in Class
On a cold afternoon in Newport News, Virginia, in early January 2023, Abigail “Abby” Zwerner was doing what she loved most — teaching first-graders at Richneck Elementary. But before the day was over, her life would change in a way no teacher should ever imagine. A six-year-old boy pulled a 9 mm handgun from his hoodie, raised it inside her classroom, and fired. The bullet tore through her left hand and embedded in her chest. Abby, bleeding and dazed, somehow shepherded her students out of harm’s way before passing out in the school office.
Her recovery was long and painful: nearly two weeks in the hospital, six surgeries, and permanent damage to her hand. A bullet still rests in her chest, near enough to her heart that it can’t safely be removed. More than physical wounds, she carries deep emotional scars — nightmares, trauma, and the constant weight of what might have been.
In 2025, Abby took her fight to court, not just as a survivor, but as a voice for accountability. She sued Ebony Parker, the former assistant principal at Richneck Elementary, accusing her of gross negligence. The core of the case: staff had warned Parker multiple times — students, teachers, and even a reading specialist reported that the boy might have a gun. Yet, according to Abby’s legal team, Parker refused to act. She did not permit a search, she delayed, and she dismissed warnings with chilling indifference — reportedly telling the staff “he has little pockets.”
Over six intense days in court, Abby, her lawyers, and expert witnesses painted a portrait of a predictable tragedy avoided — until it wasn’t. Psychiatrists testified to her PTSD; trauma surgeons explained how the hand she once raised for her students may never regain full function. Her twin sister described how Abby retreats now, how everyday tasks carry reminders of the violence she survived.
At the center stood Circuit Court Judge Matthew W. Hoffman, who had earlier rejected the school board’s argument that this was merely a workers’ compensation issue. Judge Hoffman ruled that being shot in class by a six-year-old was anything but an “expected job hazard.” He also dismissed the school board and other administrators from the case, leaving Parker accountable.
When the jury returned on November 6, 2025, after five hours of deliberation, they sided with Abby. They awarded her $10 million, a significant sum — though only a quarter of the $40 million she had sought — but more than just money, the verdict carried meaning: a powerful rebuke of inaction, a warning to school leaders, and a validation of Abby’s courage.
Her attorneys — Diane Toscano, Kevin Biniazan, and Jeffrey Breit — delivered the closing message: this wasn’t just about her, but about every student and teacher who deserves a safe school. On the other side, Daniel Hogan, Parker’s counsel, urged jurors not to judge with hindsight, reminding them that Parker was faced with information in real time and made decisions under pressure.
In the end, Abby’s fight became more than her own. It became a story of vigilance, accountability, and what happens when a teacher refuses to stay silent after surviving the unimaginable.