At 2:47 in the morning, while my seven-year-old daughter was in critical condition in the ICU, my husband saw my calls and rejected them because he was in the Bahamas with the woman he had told me not to worry about.

second, I hoped it was David.

Instead, an automated school notification reminded parents that Friday was Pajama Day.

I laughed.

A broken, terrible sound.

Then turned off my phone.

David wouldn’t learn his daughter had died through another call he could reject.

He wanted to be unreachable.

I decided he could have exactly that.

Completely.

Chapter 2: The funeral without her father

For four days, people asked me questions no mother should face.

White flowers or pink?

Open or closed casket?

Which photograph belonged on the memorial card?

What should