Malcolm's next interruption came after a long silence from the three of us, a quiet punctuated by the soft sounds of the bully at the door adjusting his stance, the rustle of his suit louder than it should have been, carrying clearly in the utter empty.

"I came looking for my girl." The Irishman's tone was nothing like Dad's had been, full of a mixed bag of emotions that made it hard not to cry in sympathy for his depth of hurt and loss. "Siobhan and me, her mum flying ...