Then the screen cleared.

T-MOBILE 36.0.2 YOUR THOUGHTS ARE NOW PART OF THE NETWORK. SHARE AND SHARE ALIKE.

The phone buzzed again. Harder. The vibration skittered the device to the edge of the table.

Frowning, she tapped “Install.” A progress bar appeared: 0%... 12%... 45%... Her phone rebooted, the T-Mobile logo flickering like a dying bulb.

“...and then he said he’d call tomorrow, but I know he won’t...”

THANK YOU FOR BEING A VALUED CUSTOMER.

Her apartment was silent. Then—a whisper. Not in the room, but in her head , as clear as a phone call on noise-canceling earbuds.