I Lost My Samsung Galaxy Smartphone And Now Someone Is Pretending To Be Me Online
I felt my eyes widen so much I thought they might fall out. “What? Nothing!”
Kane held a sheet of paper in one of his fists. “The number you were texting? The owner is a girl that was found with her face slashed up in the campsites near Burgundy.”
I felt my knees turn into jelly underneath me, lowering me into a chair. My hands were folded in my lap, despite not putting them there, and I was staring at the ridiculous argyle patterned carpet for a full minute before Kane yelled.
“ALLISON.”
I looked up at him after a second, my mouth hanging open. “She said my name in the texts, didn’t she? How did she know my name?”
“Allison, I have to call the cops. I have to show them what I found. The news said there was nothing on her body, purse and all ID stolen. I have to tell them what’s on your phone. If we can prove you were sleeping, then —”
“How the fuck are we going to prove I was asleep, Kane?!” I yelled, pushing my hands through my hair. Why were there texts from a dead girl in my fucking phone?
Kane went quiet. He shifted from foot to foot before unplugging the phone and handing it back to me. “I’m coming over tonight. We’ll figure this out, but not on the work servers. They watch what I do here.”
I held the phone loose in my hands in hopes that it might drop and shatter. I looked up to Kane with a weak smile of thanks and slipped back out into the hallway. I felt like every eye in the office was on me, like they knew. They knew there were text messages from a dead girl in my phone.
I kept my head on straight for the rest of the day. On the way home, I stopped and grabbed up a bottle of wine and a bag of cheese crackers.
Kane was waiting outside of my apartment, frowning down into his laptop.
“Are you leaching my WiFi from the hallway?”
“Yes,” he grunted.
I unlocked the door and he slipped in behind me, shutting and locking it behind him. He immediately went to my kitchen table and I set a glass of wine in front of him. We were both in full business casual, the air thick and tense.
“I’m sorry,” Kane said after watching me take a long swig from the open mouth of the wine bottle. “I thought about today…at work. You wouldn’t’ve brought the phone to me if you did something wrong. You wouldn’t have handed me evidence. I shouldn’t’ve…I’m sorry.”
I swirled the bottle against the tabletop a little before taking another long swig. I slammed it back down and rubbed the lingering wine on my lips across the back of my hand.