Ever have the gut feeling that something has gone horribly, horribly wrong and there’s nothing you can do about it? That’s the way I felt driving home from Charles Royer Station. I flattened the gas pedal, running lights and dodging in and out of traffic that had been slowed by the rain. I cursed the whole way, wishing my car had a siren and lights, wishing it still had the ability to part traffic. All the while, dread settled in my stomach like a cold, tight knot.