The terror of the lost text

It began as an innocent question. My daughter wasn’t feeling well, so when I got to work I texted my wife to ask if she (my daughter) had got up and was she any better this morning. A simple question, and one to which I expectedi a fairly quick answer, since the boss and I frequently communicate quite effectively by text. But today would be quite different. Today, that innocent text would spend untold hours doing who knows what in cyberspce, not to reappear in our world until 11:30 that evening.
So what was it up to all day?
Had it been captured by rogue cell bandits, taken to their cave on the shores of Nokia, subjected to Samsung for hours, while having it’s Moto rola’d? Had it been released back into the system when the bandits knew it would be too late, when they knew I would have returned home and seen my daughter, and any text reply would have no value?
Or did the text exploit some unforseen hiccup that gave it freedom for a few hours, freedom to roam the network, calling in perhaps at exotic locations around the world – Sydney, Berlin, Los Angeles, Swindon. Did a sense of guilt finally persuade it to find its true destination and cause the boss’ phone to make that most irritating of little chirrup noises.
Who can tell? I suspect it will for ever remain a secret, known only to the O2 computer, never to be revealed to us mere mortals.