There was no mention of the sixty-two-thousand-dollar BMW parked in Portland, the six-hundred-dollar utility bill I had disconnected, or the mediation room where the lawyer had reviewed my vehicle registration.

There was no apology for the police threats, and no dramatic plea for money.

I set my coffee cup down on the counter and typed a reply.

“Make sure you know the basic reporting metrics for digital campaigns.

Look over their client list before you walk into the room, and bring three printed copies of your resume.”

I paused for three seconds, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Then I added one more line.