"Hey, who are you?"
It was an old PHS with a very dark screen. She could barely read the caller's ID nor the text and only managed to answer the phone.
However, only one person in the world could make this call. The 13-year-old girl nervously and uneasily held her phone and asked weakly, "Who ... are you?"
There was a long silence before a boy spoke on the other side. He was the same age as her, or maybe one or two years younger because his voice sounded unchanged.
"I saw what you have sent."
"What?" The girl opened her eyes wide in surprise. She stayed in a crowded noisy Internet cafe and clumsily wrote her suicide note letter by letter on a computer.
She intended to write a letter at the beginning, but she didn't know who to send it to. After leaving the store, she came in unconsciously. The Internet cafe didn't require her ID card. Money could be her passport. And she had money, stolen from ... the corpse.
"You left a number," The boy said.