I came home eleven months early without telling anyone and found my wife sitting against a wall with her head shaved and her face bruised, while my mother shouted at me to throw her out. I didn't argue. I looked at what had actually been broken in that room, and then I asked my wife for the notebook.

Tova was in the back room with a machine running and did not know what was being said about her until one of them came through and said her name.

What happened after they left is between my wife and a prosecutor and I am not going to set it out here.

What I will say is that my mother and my sister did it, in that kitchen, and that it took about eleven minutes, and that the reason they took her hair is that my mother said a woman who brings that to a door should not be walking round Kellow looking like anything.

I came home about thirty hours later.

I had three days.

Here is what I did with them, and none of it was dramatic.

On the Thursday morning I photographed every page of that notebook, on the kitchen table, ninety-one pages, and sent them to myself twice.