I walked through the revolving entrance into the cold Boston air and switched my phone back on. It nearly vibrated out of my hand: sixty-three messages and twenty-seven missed calls. Aaron, his mother, his sister, two board members, three unfamiliar numbers, and people I’d lost contact with years ago. Their messages ranged from Are you okay? and Call me to What happened? and Claire, please tell me you didn’t really—. I stopped reading and dialed my mother instead.
She picked up immediately.
“Claire?”
“Mom.”
The single word cracked my voice.
