I gasp, and Kerri tries to stifle a laugh, but when the class completely loses their composure, so do we. Sarah had apparently selected the Virginia Plan for her poster; however, she’s misspelled the name of the state. In big, bold, pink and purple lettering across the top of the poster is ‘The Vagina Plan.’ Alison has attempted to make it look less like vagina and more like Virginia by squeezing a miniature ‘r’ between the ‘a’ and ‘g,’ but her attempt has failed miserably.

I dab the tears from my eyes and take a deep breath. “Sarah, it’s okay; mistakes happen. Go ahead and sit down. You don’t have to present in front of the class, just stay after class and you can present then.”

“I thought I had fixed it just fine,” I hear Alison mumble as they take their seats. The comment sends Kerri back into hysterics, and I smack her arm to get her to compose herself. We have to get the class back under control. I lean in and whisper to her, “I think I finally have the story that will beat all of Will’s funny stories.”

She nods vigorously, “That was seriously hilarious. I don’t think I can ever look at that state the same way.”

“Alright, everyone, let’s pull ourselves together and finish our presentations,” I announce. The class slowly smothers their laughter, and when a harsh knock on the door echoes through the room, the class goes silent.

Our principal, Mrs. Jacobs, pokes her head in the door. I internally groan; I’ve already been observed this semester, so her presence is more than likely to request that one of us covers a class. Our lack of substitutes is seriously ridiculous. It’s not that it’s Susan fault, but man, the lack of planning time is wearing us all out. We all love Susan; she is like everyone’s adopted grandmother. She is short and plump, with a heart of gold. Make no mistake though; she is a principal for a reason. This woman can make a grown man cry. I’ve seen it; it’s not pretty.

“Mrs. Matthews, I need you,” she says before stepping back into the hallway. I look to Kerri, and her expression lets me know that she assumes the same thing; I’ll be lacking a planning hour this afternoon.

I give Kerri all of my rubric papers so that they can continue without me, and I head out into the hallway. “Which class do I need to take today?” I ask as soon as the door closes behind me.

She grabs my hand, squeezing it when she takes a deep breath, “I don’t need any classes covered today, Viv. I just need you to come with me.”

I quickly trace my memory of anything I can think of that could have warranted being pulled out of class and taken to the principal’s office. I come up with a big fat zero, so when she turns and heads in the direction of her office, I just follow.

Susan slows so that we walk shoulder-to-shoulder, but stays quiet as we walk. If I am in trouble, I’m not going to start a conversation in the hallway, so I remain quiet as well.

When we turn the corner down the last corridor towards the office, the situation becomes clearer. We are only fifty feet from the front desk, but when Rob in his uniform turns around, hearing our footsteps click on the tiled floor, I come to a standstill.

His red, puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks tell me everything that I need to know. My feet feel like they are in quicksand, and they refuse to move any farther to face what’s waiting for me at the end of the hall. Susan continues on, not noticing at first that I’ve stopped moving. She turns around and steps towards me to encourage me to continue on, but I hold my hand up to stop her.

There are only two reasons why Rob would be here right now, and I lock eyes with him and attempt to reach into them with my soul to grasp how serious the news is. I hold my breath, waiting for him to tell me. When he shakes his head and looks down at the floor, I know Will is gone.

The hallway is empty, but I feel like I’m being crushed between the cinder block walls. My heart plummets to my stomach, and everything around me spins out of control. As the dizziness takes over, I fall to the floor, unable to breathe, unable to look up at Rob who I hear rushing towards me. My sweaty fingers claw into the tile, and I feel myself teetering on the brink of numbness–my emotional shelter. Rob hovers over me, his own tears landing on the back of neck. When his hand lands on my back, my grief bursts to the surface. I exhale the breath I have been holding and sob into the ground, letting the cold floor cool my warm tears.

Rob lifts me into his arms, and I weep into his shoulder. I hear mumbling as we continue down the hall towards the office, but my cries drown out the words around me. A door closes, and he places me in one of the chairs in Susan’s office. Susan offers me a tissue and then leaves the room. They say an officer’s wife should be prepared for something like this to happen, but right now, being suffocated by that situation, I can’t think of anything that would have prepared me for this. Rob sits across from me and lets me cry; he offers no empty words of condolences, nor does he try to soothe me, and I’m so damn thankful for that.

I let myself feel every bit of my loss until my eyes have no more tears. I use Susan’s tissue to wipe my nose and cheeks, and turn my shoulders toward Rob. I realize that he’s hurting, too, but I need to know everything before I walk out that door. I need to be able to walk down that hall and face my children knowing the truth of what happened to my husband.

“I need to know what happened, Rob.” My words are muffled and scratchy from my constricted throat, but I manage to squeeze them out.

“Viv, do you think now is the time? Why don’t we worry about getting you home? I can have your mother get the kids; that way we can get you settled.”

My sadness morphs into anger. I feel like I’m five-years-old all over again, and instead of my mother keeping the truth from me, it’s now one of my closest friends. “I’m not going anywhere,” I snap. “I will gather my children and take them home, only after I find out what happened to their father. I refuse to leave here until you tell me.”

I grip onto the handles of the chair, readying myself for what he’s going to tell me. He attempts to speak, and his voice cracks. He takes a second to gather his breath and clear his throat. “He was just south of town on a basic traffic stop for speeding. He had already cleared all of the information through dispatch, so we think he was out of the car talking to the driver, giving him all the information for the ticket. A semi-truck driver veered out of his lane onto the shoulder, and he hit both Will and the car that was pulled over.”

“Did anyone survive?” I stutter.

Rob presses his hands together and keeps his head down, unable to look at me; he’s struggling to keep himself together, but I offer him no reprieve. “The semi-driver made it, but everyone else died on impact. We took the driver to the hospital for minor injuries. All of his initial toxicology tests were clean; we interviewed him, and he said he fell asleep. We went through his log books and he was way over on hours.” He says it all so quickly, I struggle to follow all of what he’s saying. It’s like he wants to hurry and spit it all out. Then he slows down and finally makes eye contact with me. “Viv, he shouldn’t have been on the road,” he sighs.

I sit silently, gradually letting the information settle. I know what arrangements need to be made, what needs to be done; I just need a minute to find the courage to stand up and take the first step towards that life–a life without Will. I feel like the longer I sit here, the easier it is to believe that it’s not real. It won’t feel real until I have to say the words aloud.

“Tell me what you need me to do, Viv,” Rob says, moving to the edge of his chair, ready to act.

“I need you to notify my family,” I quietly say, “but I want you to keep everyone away from my house. I need this time right now to be with the kids. I don’t want it crawling with people, whether they mean well or not. I will let everyone know when we are ready for visitors.”