The only indication that things have gone awry is the sound of her voice. I hear her chatting, her words all a rush. There’s no way she’s that excited about a math lesson. Still, I hesitate to check on her. I’m working on a piece that’s due in just a few days and, for the love of god, I can’t sit next to her all day long.
But then my phone starts pinging with Facebook Messenger alerts from the other moms. I get an email from Em’s teacher, letting us know she lost power. Eventually, there’s an email from the school’s principal, alerting parents to the news that a nearby transformer has blown up, the power in the entire school is out, and all parents of in-person students must pick up their kids.
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