On the morning of October 7th, I woke up in New York and immediately texted my friend from the army, Netta Epstein, who lived with his family on Kibbutz Kfar Azza, just a few minutes from my home in Kibbutz Alumim. I reached out to make sure he was okay, but tragically, he had already been murdered by Hamas terrorists. His grandmother, uncle, and cousin were also murdered that day. It was an unimaginable loss—Netta was more than a friend; he was a brother in arms, someone I deeply admired for his strength and kindness.