“You’re welcome, Mary. I knew something had to be terribly wrong. You’re too smart to turn in an exam like this.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Mary watched out the window as the school bell rang and the students piled out of the building, spilled onto the sidewalk, and dispersed in pairs and small groups. She saw Mrs. Platt approach Principal Wegman, who was standing on the top landing, presiding over the end of the school day. The discussion was brief but animated.

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

Mary lost sight of Mrs. Platt as she walked back through the heavy front doors, and she skedaddled away from the window to stand at attention once again in front of the desk. The classroom door opened seconds later.

“Principal Wegman wasn’t very happy with the situation, but he agreed to the grade change.”

Mary let out a breath and whooped with joy, which garnered her a raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s just… My graduation depended on that grade. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t passed.”

“I don’t know if your plans include college or higher education of any kind, but I strongly recommend you find yourself a reading tutor over the summer.”

“Yes, ma’am. May I go now?”

“Yes, Mary. You’re dismissed.”

She let herself out of the classroom, scurried out of the building, and continued down the sidewalk until she was off school property. Then she dropped her books, spun in a circle, and did a victory dance. She was going to graduate on time, after all.

“Hey. Everything okay?”

Mary’s hand flew to her chest. “Lord have mercy. You nearly scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry,” Phyllis said. “I waited for you by the big tree. When you didn’t come out for so long, I got worried.”

“That’s all right.” Mary picked up her books and the two girls fell into step together.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Mary explained about the exam and the grading change.

“Wow. Lucky you. I wish some of my teachers would do something like that for me…” Phyllis stopped walking.

“What is it?” Mary followed her line of sight down the street, where Phyllis’s mother was crumpled on the sidewalk in front of their house. Her wailing was loud enough that Mary could hear her, even from this distance.

“No. No, no, no.” Phyllis broke into a run, and Mary followed close on her heels.

In this time of war, everyone knew what a tableau like this meant. They reached Phyllis’s mother as several neighbors knelt on the ground next to her, trying in vain to console her. She held a telegram loosely in her hand, and Phyllis liberated it from her grasp.

She covered her mouth with a hand as a sob burst forth.