It was a cold night and I was tired. I sat in the car looking at the barren trees on the side of the empty parking lot and shivered, looking forward to a warm bath and some soup. My cell phone pinged. I picked it up and saw the text—first my name, and then the message “don’t go home tonight.” I would have chalked this up to a wrong number and simply gone home anyway, but there was the nagging specificity of my name (which is not a common one) prefacing the message. I looked at the number, which simply said “Unknown.” I looked again at the message, just to make sure I was reading it right. And then, despite the fact that my fingers were already nearly numb with cold, I slowly drew off my glove and typed in “why not?” I hit the send button staring at the screen waiting for a reply. I decided to give it 10 minutes before I started driving. I was really shivering now and tempted to turn on the heater except for the fact that I was already dangerously low on gas. It only took 5 minutes for the reply to come through. “Just don’t.” Breathing on my hands to warm them up, I typed back “who is this?”