When I got a new phone, I got a new phone number. Or, at least, a new-to-me number. It was clearly a number that had been around a bit. At first, this was a bonus. I get extra seasonal texts from people I didn’t know – who were more willing to wish me well than my own family. Thanks Yvette!
Then it got a little darker. What did the automated message know about Hannah? Is she OK? Apparently not…
Then things got weird. I am not Money. Whatever reggie needs 40 of, I’m pretty sure I don’t have any.
And then I realized I was in over my head. What the hell are you asking me for, people?
I don’t think I’m ready for this.
Small Change on Strangers 