The News
Bo had not been at school for three days.
The first day, Mrs Tannen had said only that Bo was unwell. The second day, the same. By the third day, the message in the back row, where Pia and her friends sat, was clear: nobody had heard from Bo at all.
Pia rang Bo's house from her mum's mobile that evening, because she was eleven and did not have her own phone. Bo's mum answered.
"Hello? Mrs Vogel? It's Pia. From school."
"Hello, Pia."
There was a pause. Bo's mum's voice was the kind of careful that grown-ups put on when they have been crying recently.
"Is Bo there? I just wanted to say hello."
Another pause.
"Bo isn't really up to coming to the phone, sweetheart. He's having a hard week."
"Mrs Vogel — is something wrong?"
A longer pause. Pia held her breath.
"Bo's dad and I — we are separating, Pia. We told Bo on Sunday. He's having a difficult time with it. He'll be back at school next week, I think. Could you tell Mrs Tannen?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, sweetheart."
"Mrs Vogel — could I — could I just say one thing to him? On the phone? Just hello?"
A very long pause.
"Hold on, Pia."
Pia waited. Her heart was knocking. She did not actually know what she was going to say. She had not planned this. She was eleven. She did not know how to talk to a friend whose parents were divorcing.
She decided, in the long silence, to say nothing clever. To not try to fix it. To just