Ava
True to his words, Ivan arrives at my door thirty minutes before dinner, holding a sleek, brand-new model of the latest smartphone in his hands. He hands the device over to me and I take it, examining the shiny black surface.
“It’s brand new,” Ivan explains when he notices my hesitation. “They were able to transfer some of your data into it, so I’m pretty sure you have some of your contacts in there. You might even find a few old messages. But unfortunately, they weren’t able to retrieve your phone number since your phone isn’t accessible anymore,” He says, voice light, but I could sense a hint of seriousness behind his words.
I nod and press the power button, watching as the device comes to life in my hand. The familiar logo glows on the screen, accompanied by the familiar welcom
