Pushing open the door to my daughter’s bedroom, I already had a smile on my face. I loved mornings with my 20-month-old, Margot. She’d greet me with her infectious grin, reaching out for a morning snuggle. I’d enjoy the tickle of her hair on my chin as she’d bury her head in my chest.
Usually, Margot was an early riser and had me and her dad Ben, then 39, out of bed by 5am. Only this day, in May 2021, was different. It was past 7am and I assumed she was just giving me a much-needed lie-in, while Ben had already gone to the school where he worked as a teacher.
