January 16, 2026 — 8:50 am. We were seated in our blue Ford van, headed once again to the Polish border. Rebekah would soon turn 18, and so it was time to visit the Ukrainian consulate in Krakow to get her a visa. Anya, a Ukrainian friend, had come along for the ride. The morning was crisp; the roads, thankfully, clear. As the three of us sped toward the border, conversation lulled, and my mind began to wander. I’d driven this route so often I could almost do it in my sleep. Almost. No sleep now, though — stay awake. Eyes on the road. We clipped along at a comfortable 100 kph (62 mph). Suddenly, I snapped alert: 8:56 am. Four minutes left…