Mom there is nothing in the house. There is literally nothing in the house. Emily is crying.
Mrs. Margaret, whatever you think you’re doing, this is theft and we are calling the police.
That last one was Rebecca and I’d like to note the capital letters and the fact that I was still Mrs. Margaret in it.
I did not answer one of them. Rosalind Achebe had told me on the Monday: “From here forward, you don’t speak to them. I speak to them. If they contact you, you forward it to me and you do not reply, not even one word, not even to say you won’t reply.”
That was the single hardest instruction I have ever been given.
My son’s name came up on my phone nine times in three hours and I sat in my friend Delphine’s guest room with my hands in my lap.
They Did Call the Police, and Here Is What Actually Happened, Because the Internet Version Is Nonsense
