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A knock on the door disrupted my thoughts. I went to the door, opened it, and found a FedEx package at my feet. I figured Allyson must have ordered something online, but then I saw it was addressed to me.

I brought the package into the kitchen and rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers for a pair of scissors. Placing the box on the kitchen counter, I cut through the packaging tape. A new smartphone was inside.

What the hell?

I never did end up making it to the cellphone store. When I picked up the phone, I noticed a note at the bottom of the box.

Waiting for you to reschedule. I thought this might help. My contact info has already been programmed, along with some music to help persuade you.

Listen to it.

The note wasn’t signed, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who’d sent it. I powered on the phone and pulled up the contact list. Alexander Stone’s name, email address, and three different contact numbers were already programmed into it, as well as all of my other contacts.

I fought the urge to smash the phone against the kitchen wall.

This has to be some sort of sick joke! Of all the nerve!

The cellphone rang loudly through the silent apartment, practically making me jump out of my skin. My mother’s name showed on the caller ID.

Why are my calls going to this phone?

I warily slid my finger along the smooth touch screen to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“There you are!” my mother exclaimed. “I’ve been calling all morning, but your phone was sending me straight to voicemail.”

I looked at my broken phone on the coffee table in the living room.

That’s strange. The phone was turned on.

But the thought was fleeting, as an idea of a completely impossible scenario came to mind.

There’s no way…he couldn’t have.

I hurried to the table to inspect the old phone, and my jaw hit the floor.

Oh my God. That son of a bitch deactivated it.

I pulled the new phone away from my ear to look at it and felt my blood begin to simmer at his audacity.

I don’t care if he’s some mega ultra-powerful zillionaire! He has no right! This must be illegal somehow. Of all the sneaky, controlling, and underhanded things…

“Krys? Are you there?” asked my mother, her voice sounding faint as I continued to hold the expensive device out in front of me.

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’m here,” I said, bringing the phone back to my ear. I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

“How are you, love? I haven’t talked to you in weeks.”

“I’m good. Busy, but good.”

“Busy finding a job, I hope. You insisted on spending all that money going to college in New York, and you should have something to show for it by now.”

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh.

Here we go.

“No, Mom. Not yet. In fact, I was just about to pull out my laptop and start another job hunt. You sort of caught me at a bad time.”