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Mark spun back around, quickly closed the door, and leapt onto his bed. Time to finish off Chelsea! Scooping up the controller, he dove back into his videogame, sending Roy Keane and Ryan Giggs up the pitch. Clicking furiously, his thumbs sent the ball sailing past the goalkeeper and into the net.

“YES!” he yelled triumphantly as the animated fans on the screen cheered, celebrating his best ever score: 5-2 United. He couldn’t wait to tell his dad when he called later.

He rifled through the videogames scattered behind him on his bed. What to play next? The on-screen football supporters continued shouting and carrying on.

His door flew open and he threw a perturbed look over his shoulder. “Gracie, don’t you ever knock…” His words and annoyance drifted off.

Gracie was stood there, looking pale and worried, her headphones looped around her neck, but it was their mum who stole Mark’s attention. Her shoulders were bowed as if straightening up would be slow and painful. A shaky hand covered her mouth, partially hiding her damp, red cheeks.

Niamh clasped her fifteen-year-old daughter’s hand and slowly walked into Mark’s room. “Kids, I need to tell you something…”

Mark pushed his videogames away, making room for his family on the single bed.

Niamh wrapped her arms around her frightened kids.

Why is Mum crying? Was that her doctor calling? Is she getting sicker?

“I just had a phone call…from Germany.”

“Dad?” Mark frowned. “Is he going to miss my match, Mum?”

“Mark, Gracie…” Niamh inhaled a shuddering breath. “Your dad…he’s had a massive heart attack.”

“What?” Mark squinted. “Is he going to be all right? Are…Are you going to see him? Can we go, too?”

“Mark, love…” Tears spilled from her eyes. “He died.”

Mark’s body froze in ice-cold shock. His stomach felt like it did just before leaping off the highest diving board at the public pool: scared…sick…alone…

“But…couldn’t they do something?” Grace began to tremble within her mother’s warm embrace. “A girl…at school, her dad had a heart attack. He had an operation…”

Niamh shook her head. “The doctor said he died instantly, darlin’, unloading his truck. There was nothing anyone could have done…”

Grace’s eyes scrunched up, tortured with tears.

Mark struggled to catch his breath, his chest tight and stuttering. Sobs burst from his lips. “H-He’s never…coming back?”

“No, love. He’s with the angels now.” Tears streamed down Niamh’s face as she pulled her broken children closer.