Chapter 3 - The Death Notice
Victoria led Clara into the formal library.
Rain tapped against the windows while Everett Vale arranged papers on the long walnut desk.
Clara remained standing.
No one offered her a chair.
“What is in the envelope?” she asked.
Vale looked at Victoria.
That brief glance told Clara that whatever was happening had already been planned.
Victoria moved beside her.
“My dear, you should sit down.”
“Tell me.”
“We received a call late last night.”
“From whom?”
“A military liaison.”
Clara’s mouth went dry.
“What did they say?”
Victoria reached for her hand.
Clara pulled away.
“Tell me what they said.”
Victoria lowered her voice.
“Arthur’s convoy was involved in an incident.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Was he injured?”
Vale opened the envelope.
“We were informed there were no survivors.”
Clara stared at him.
The rain continued against the windows, absurdly normal.
“No.”
“I’m very sorry,” Vale said.
“No.”
Victoria held out the document.
Clara did not take it.
“That isn’t true.”
“The Department of the Army confirmed it,” Victoria said.
“They would send someone. They wouldn’t tell you first.”
“I am his mother.”
“I am his wife.”
“The liaison could not reach you.”
“My phone isn’t working because you changed the system.”
Victoria’s voice became sharper.
“Clara, this is not the time.”
“It’s not true.”
Vale moved the document closer.
The paper carried a military heading, a seal and Arthur’s full name. It stated that Captain Arthur James Harrington had been killed during an overseas operation and that recovery of his remains had not been possible.
Clara read the first paragraph twice.
The letters blurred.
Her knees gave way.
Victoria caught her before she reached the floor and guided her into a leather chair.
“No,” Clara repeated.
“I know,” Victoria murmured. “I know.”
Clara pressed a hand against her belly.
The baby moved.
The sensation broke something inside her.
Arthur had spoken to their child every night before deployment. He had recorded stories so the baby would know his voice. He had argued with Clara about names, nursery colors and whether it was too early to buy a tiny baseball glove.
He could not be dead before meeting his child.
“I need to speak to his commanding officer,” Clara whispered.
“The operation remains classified,” Vale said.
“I don’t care.”
“They cannot provide further details.”
“I want the name of the liaison.”
Victoria squeezed her shoulder.
“You need to think about the baby.”
“I am thinking about the baby.”
“Stress could be dangerous.”
“Stop saying that.”
Clara pushed herself out of the chair.
“Give me my phone.”
“It is being repaired.”
“Give me yours.”
Victoria hesitated.
Clara held out her hand.
“Give me your phone.”
“You are in shock.”
“I need to call the Army.”
“Clara.”
“Give it to me.”
Victoria’s face turned cold.
“You will not create a public spectacle while the military is still handling the situation.”
“My husband is dead, and you are worried about a spectacle?”
“I am worried about this family’s reputation.”
Clara looked from Victoria to Vale.
The attorney began collecting the documents too quickly.
That was when suspicion first pierced her grief.
“Leave the notice,” she said.
Vale stopped.
“I need to retain it for administrative purposes.”
“It was addressed to me.”
“It was addressed to the family.”
Clara grabbed the document before he could reach it.
Vale looked alarmed.
Victoria stepped between them.
“Let her keep it.”
Clara folded the paper against her chest.
“I’m going to my room.”
Victoria watched her cross the library.
At the doorway, Clara turned.
“When is Arthur’s memorial service?”
Neither Victoria nor Vale answered immediately.
Vale looked down at his briefcase.
Victoria finally said, “We must wait for military authorization.”
Clara went upstairs and locked the bedroom door.
For two hours, she cried until no tears remained.
Then she examined the notice again.
The paper looked official, but Arthur’s middle name was printed as Joseph.
Arthur’s middle name was James.
Clara sat upright.
She checked the document again.
Captain Arthur Joseph Harrington.
The wrong name.
A small error.
A devastating error.
She carried the paper to the bedroom phone, but the line was still dead.
Her mobile showed no signal.
She tried the wireless internet.
The password had been changed.
Clara went to the door.
May you like
The lock turned, but the door did not open.
Someone had secured it from the outside.
