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I bend down so that my eyes are level with his blue ones. “This is a really great paper, Krew. Did you know that you and I have something in common?”

“No.”

“My mom died too, and I go visit her grave all the time.”

His eyes light up the way only a child’s can. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s cool.” Krew shrugs once then runs out to recess, leaving me heartbroken.

* * *

“This isthe saddest thing I’ve ever read,” I say to my friends at lunch two hours later. I plop down into a chair in the teachers’ lounge, letting my soft cooler drop on the table next to me. Jen and Charlene teach second grade too and are already sitting at the table.

“What’s the saddest thing you’ve ever read?” Jen asks, leaning forward. She’s three years younger than I am, and a first-time teacher. I like her because she’s eager to learn and not afraid to ask questions.

“We did anAll About Mewriting assignment this morning where I told the kids to tell me something about them that I didn’t know. This is Principal Carter’s grandson’s response.” I slap Krew’s paper on the table in front of me and start reading it aloud. “My mom died. We go to her grave. We bring her flowers. The yellow are her favorite. My dad is sad. He sleeps on her side of the bed and smells her pillow.” The other two let out a collectiveawwand I stop reading for a moment, giving them myI knowlook, then I pick up where I left off. “My grandma works at the school and lets me help her after school when I wait for my dad.”

“Thatisthe saddest thing.” Jen puts a hand over her heart like she needs it there to hold herself together.

“Mrs. Carter’s daughter died over a year ago.” Charlene shakes her head. She’s the only one of us that isn’t new to the private school this year. “It was so tragic. She was in a car accident and died on impact.”

I was more than flattered when Diane Carter told me her grandson was assigned to my class. I’m new to the school, and the fact that she trusts me with her own grandson speaks volumes. This is my fourth year teaching second grade, but it’s my first year at American Education Academy. I’ve always wanted to teach here. It’s my dream job. The private school is like a Japanese airport, beautiful with an abundance of state-of-the-art technology. The class sizes are small, and the pay is higher than public schools. When I saw there was a job opening to teach second grade, I jumped at the chance.

Principal Carter personally came into my classroom and handed me my student list the week before school started. She told me Krew was her grandson, and that he’d been having a hard time since his mother’s passing. She put her hand on my arm and said she’d appreciate it if I took special care of him this year. Of course, I agreed. She’s my boss. But I was glad on the first day of school to learn that Krew is an adorable kid who’s easy to like.

I’ve been worried about him, though. School has only been in session for two weeks, but I’m already noticing a pattern that he doesn’t bring back or turn in any homework sent home. I could talk to Diane about it, but I’d rather bring the subject up with Mr. Dixon at Meet the Teacher Night later this week. That’sifhe shows up. So far, I haven’t seen Krew’s dad at the school at all.

“I went to the funeral,” Charlene says. “All the staff did. Kristen Dixon was something else. She had a PhD in Child Psychology, and she specialized in helping children diagnosed with terminal illnesses. Beyond that, she was beautiful, ran multiple marathons a year, and still made time for her family.”

“Wow,” Jen says. “I feel like a total failure in life after hearing what she accomplished.”

I glance at her. “I know.”

“She was averyaccomplished woman—Diane Carter’s only child, her pride and joy. I felt so bad for her husband she left behind.” Charlene sighs. “He’s a real looker. I’d ride the Dixon train if I were thirty years younger.”

Jen and I exchange a look.

“What?” Charlene says. “Don’t tell me you both haven’t thought the same thing.”

“You know nothing turns me on more than a man smelling his dead wife’s pillow.” Jen catches herself. “That is, if I weren’t already in a committed relationship with Rob.”

Charlene stirs her leftover ravioli. “Well, someone should hit that. He’s this school’s McSteamy.”

Hit? McSteamy?It’s as if Charlene swallowed Urban Dictionary.

Their heads turn to me, and I straighten under their stares.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You should date him!” Jen says excitedly.

“No.”

She waves her finger out in front of me. “I thought you said this morning that you and Zak broke up. You’re single now.”

“I’ve decided to be a spinster.”