But I want to talk with someone.
“Sure you can’t speak?” I ask Toto.
He doesn’t answer.
Blowing out a breath, I open the contacts list on my new phone.
As he’d promised, Nero had all my old info transferred over. Not that there was much.
My contacts are almost only coworkers and my bosses, specifically for when I’d get sick and need to call in or find a replacement for my shift.
I don’t have anything as far as social media goes. When you run away from home to avoid abusive parents, you can’t exactly create profiles to stay in touch with high school friends. Not that I had any.
It’s not like people were mean to me. I wasn’t bullied much. There just wasn’t anyone to miss me, so no one to stay in touch with.
I snuck out in the middle of the night, and I doubt there was a single person
