The Call At 3am

My grandmother used to talk about moments like this and I always assumed she was exaggerating until one happened to me. I woke up at 3am in Lincoln certain something was wrong with my father four states away, not a vague worry but a specific, complete certainty that felt placed in me rather than imagined, certain enough that I called him immediately. He'd had a minor fall ten minutes earlier and was on the floor unable to reach his phone. I have no explanation for the timing except that I was shown, somehow, exactly when to call.