Twenty-eight days. That's how long families like mine had to decide whether to challenge the sentence given to the person who murdered my 16-year-old sister Sasha, and destroyed our lives.

Twenty-eight days - the same amount of time you have to return something to a shop.

When my sister's killer was sentenced, we were left reeling, emotionally broken, legally confused, and suddenly facing a countdown. We were given less than a month to process the verdict, understand the legal jargon, and figure out if the sentence was "unduly lenient". Meanwhile, defendants are given far longer to decide if they want to appeal.

How can this possibly be fair?

This week, the Sentencing Bill will be back in Parliament, and MPs will have a limited window to make their case.

So my message to MPs this week is that grieving families are not legal experts. We don't have teams of solicitors waiting by the phone. We are just trying to survive and to make sense of a justice system that can feel cold and procedural when you're at your most vulnerable.

The 28-day limit is not just arbitrary - it's cruel. It assumes that families are immediately equipped to challenge complex legal decisions while navigating trauma and loss. Worse still, many victims and families aren't even told that they can appeal an unduly lenient sentence. By the time we learn, the window has already closed.

That's why I'm campaigning for change. The deadline for victims and their families to appeal unduly lenient sentences must be extended, and there must be a legal duty to ensure they are properly informed of their rights at the end of a trial.

Justice shouldn't have an expiry date.

This isn't about revenge. It's about equality and fairness. If the justice system can give convicted offenders ample time and support to challenge outcomes, then it can do the same for the people left behind.

For many of us, 28 days isn't long enough even to begin grieving, let alone to fight back.