And I chose the telephone, and I have never regretted it.

Because everything else he did that morning can be explained by panic.

A man in a corridor with his mother’s voice in his ear and three-hour-old babies through a door and a decade of private certainty that he was the broken one — that man might do almost anything in the following ten minutes, and I can find my way to most of it.

What panic does not explain is twelve ignored calls.