My father came home from work to find Chioma missing. He sensed the tension as he walked in but didn’t utter a word. Instead, he stood still by the door. After what felt like forever, he tried to move, but his knees failed him. He glanced around, studying the room; his eyes found Ma first, who was on the phone with aunt Zuki, “Angazi Zukiswa, eskolweni bathi kukhona omlandile.” My father’s face remained expressionless and that sent a cold shiver down my spine. His courage finally found him and he walked over to where I was sitting helplessly. I’m always the last one to panic. I assumed he had come to me hoping I’d offer consolation or a logical explanation, but fear and uncertainty have taken over my existence in its entirety. He gazed upon me most strangely, before he hysterically cried out, “It was an accident. I’m sorry.”