Then:
Mom is devastated.
That last message told me exactly where we still were.
My mother’s feelings had entered the conversation before Emma’s had.
I blocked Brooke’s number.
Then I called my parents.
My mother answered.
“Ryan, thank God.”
“I heard the recording.”
Silence.
Not confusion.
Not “What recording?”
Silence.
My father came onto the line.
“What exactly did you hear?”
The question was so careful that it hurt more than yelling would have.
I told them.
My mother started crying.
She said they had been panicking.
She said Brooke had been overwhelmed.
She said nobody wanted things twisted into something worse.
I listened until she ran out of sentences.
Then I asked one question.
“Why didn’t either of you ask how Emma was?”
My mother stopped.
My father tried to answer for her.
“That isn’t fair.”
“It’s been more than twenty-four hours.”
“Of course we care about her.”
