I n November of 2024, I was at my desk in the home office, doing the unremarkable work of spreadsheets and email, when my wife appeared in the hallway outside the bathroom. She did not call out or raise her voice. She made an urgent hand motion, the kind you make when you are trying not to alarm children. Our two sons were in the tub, laughing at something private and momentary, as children do. She pulled me toward the doorway and whispered, “Look.” Above the bathtub is a skylight. It looks out