Busted

Mickey held his breath. Certain that noise had been sufficient to awaken anyone. Luck or gods blessed him. The house remained eerily silent. 'Nearly there, no blowing it. Watch for those loose boards.' An inner voice ordered. Mike dutifully stepped over another plank and ducked into a doorway.

Lights flared on. “Michael Ian Millar what time do you call this?”

“Two thirty seven.”

“Flippancy will not help.”

“Sorry mum.”

“I have been worried sick. Phoning hospitals, police stations, even your useless father. Well...Say something.”

“But...”

“Wrong thing. Consider yourself grounded.”

“Ma...”

“Work. Home. Nothing else young man.”

“Yes mother.”