“Are we moving your contacts and data over from your current carrier?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Shut this phone off completely and cancel the contract behind it.”

He took my old phone and set it face up on the black rubber mat on the counter between us.

As he typed at his terminal, the glass screen lit up twice with my mother’s name.

A second later, a text preview from Brent slid across the top banner, asking why the living room router was blinking red.

Tyler lifted the phone to look over the metal frame.