It was all the fault of last night’s stinky fish. I went to take the garbage out early this morning, but I had to turn off our alarm before opening the front door.

I tried to turn it off. It didn’t work. I tried again. It didn’t work. It seems I was punching the buttons downstairs at exactly the same time Min was punching them upstairs.

We eventually got the alarm off and proceeded to shower.

And then the police turned up.

The first line of my novel, Truth, is “The police are at my door at 3 a.m.”

Well, two plainclothes police officers were at my door at 7 a.m. this morning. Apparently, in all our button fumbling, we managed to type a duress code into our alarm. So they thought we might have been held at gunpoint or something.

But no, we were just idiots.

So embarrassing.

The police refrained from calling us bad names, they went along their way to fight actual crime, and Min and I took our red faces upstairs to make breakfast.

I think next, we’ll build a safe room.

And then lock ourselves in.


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