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CHAPTER SEVEN

Stacy's POV

“Why are you asking me for my phone?” I asked, a brow raised. My mom looked like she had something to let out of her mouth, and when she took a seat close to the girl, I was surprised at how calmly she spoke.

“We might have taken you into our home, and provided you with shelter, but do you think it's wise to call anyone out there right now? Plus, maybe someone is still after you and we don't even know your name! Or —"

“My name is Ella Jones. I am eight.” The girl responded curtly, “now please, can you help me with your phone? I really need to call my brother right now. He could be in danger!”

Her voice sounded urgent and afraid, and I didn't know what refusing her would make her do. I could tell my mom was asking me not to, but I already peeled my smartphone from my pocket and handed it over to her.

I watched in awe as she navigated my phone, but I was even more shocked when I realized she was operating my phone without asking for my passcode. Just how did she do that?

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