Bereaved
The phone call was like a kick in the groin. In the middle of his first semester at college... shortly before his Psych mid-term, as a matter of fact, his mother had called. The conversation was brief, but brutally to the point. She'd only spoken ten words. "James, honey?" "Mom? Is that you? Look, I'd love to talk, but-" "Dad's dead. Maybe you ought to come home." Click He stared at the receiver in mute disbelief. His dad was... dead? It was only on the plane back home,...