Would things be different? Would he still be alive? How can a simple phone call deliver such horrible news? At this point my daughter realizes I'm upset, but she doesn't really know what's wrong. She asked "What's wrong mom?" I respond slowly, “I’m fine, honey.” I just couldn't tell her that her best friend had died. I tried to hold back until I could figure out how I was going to tell him without breaking his heart into a million pieces. I thought about how she would react if she couldn't see someone who was there every day. I decide to wait until the morning when we are home and I can explain to him what happened. When we finally arrive home, she is already asleep. I put her to bed then sit to think about the news. I called my grandmother back to get all the information. I still couldn't believe this happened. My emotions were everywhere. I was angry because he was gone. I was sad because I already missed him. I was happy with the time we spent with him. Most of all, I was devastated because I knew I would have to break my daughter's heart by saying