On the day Amy died, the phone rang and my husband Richard took the call downstairs. His mum was seriously ill at the time so when he came into the room and said ‘She’s gone’, I thought he was talking about his mum.
But then he repeated, ‘Your baby’s gone’. I was numb. It felt matter-of-fact, like being told ‘Amy’s crossed the road’. The hours that followed felt like a blur.
We were immediately sent a family liaison officer, who turned up really quickly, and then suddenly family were arriving. Amy’s dad Mitch flew back from New York and I think it was the following day, a Sunday, when he came straight here from the airport.
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