When the SAT Ends, Two Messages Broke My Heart

Synopsis

When the SATs ended, my phone buzzed with two messages. One was a post from my husband's social media. In the photo, he was celebrating the end of the SATs at a luxury hotel with his late friend's widow and her daughter. The caption read: [Three days by your side, I saw how hard you worked. Congrats in advance, Emily, for acing the exams!] The other was a message from the funeral home, asking me to pick out an urn. On the day of the SATs, my daughter was dragged into the boys' restroom and drowned in a urinal. Her body was covered in wounds, not a single spot left untouched. In three days, I made sure those monsters were behind bars and took care of my daughter's funeral arrangements. But David was nowhere to be seen for those three days. I called him a thousand times, but he never picked up. All I got in return was a cold, automated reply: [I'm busy. Don't bother me.] On the day my daughter was cremated, I made one last desperate call to him. But after just three rings, he cut me off. I stood there, lost in front of the furnace, when a memory hit me. The time David skipped Sophie's birthday, and she made a wish, so earnest. Sophie once said softly, "Mom, if I die and Dad still isn't here, don't tell him." She looked at me, pleading, "And don't let him come to my funeral, okay?" I nodded, my voice barely a whisper, "Okay."