It’s now nearly ten o’clock in the morning. I decide to call Jeffrey to tell him what I’ve discovered. I want him to know my birth certificate was correct, to save him and the police from wasting time rechecking with the Registrar.
I pick my phone off the bedside table where I’d left it and see I have a missed call and a voicemail. The call was from Michael. My brow furrows. What on earth can he be calling me for? More verbal abuse, perhaps?
I check my voicemail, but as soon as I hear his voice, I terminate the call. I’m about to delete it, but I change my mind. It’s just possible it could be evidence, I think. I see from the screen that I have one unread text. It’s also from Michael. Persistent, I think. I’m now curious enough to open the message.
I’m sorry. I said stupid things. I did
