INTRODUCTION The Call It was 4 a.m. in the UK. The kind of darkness that feels heavy. No cars outside. No birds. Only the quiet sound of my wife breathing beside me. Then the phone rang. I did not even see the screen before I heard her scream. It was not a loud scream. It was broken, the kind of sound that pulls your stomach through the floor. I sat up so quickly that the room spun. My hands were shaking, and I did not yet know why. “Michael.” One name was enough. The words coming through the speaker sounded as though they were underwater. Ambulance. Helicopter. Intensive care. Andrew and Sherilyn. “Cut him down.” “Mum is not here yet.” I could not move. My wife was crying in a way I had never heard before. I wanted to fix it. I wanted to be the strong one. Instead, my chest locked, my mind filled with noise, and I felt completely useless. By 5 a.m., I had booked flights for all of us. By 6 a.m., five children were dressed and the bags were packed. By 7 a.m., we were in a taxi on the
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