What the hell? The last line was something his mom had said a lot throughout his childhood. They’d watched Star Wars as a family at least a hundred times when he was little, and she’d teased him with that line whenever it was time to do chores or she’d needed him to do something.

Intrigued, he typed HomeAloneEricaCohen and pressed send, surprised by how easily the information from his past had come to him. Now what? The phone buzzed in his hand, startling him. The number calling read Unknown. Seriously? Telemarketing shenanigans had just graduated to the next level. Somehow, they had linked him to one of his mom’s old sayings. Probably something she’d submitted as a challenge question online and was subsequently sold to some data-collection outfit.

But what if this was something else?

Devin accepted the call. Why not? He could always hang up if it was indeed a new telemarketer.

“Hello?” he said.

His mother’s voice answered.

“Devin. If you’re hearing this, something has gone seriously wrong. You’ve either already attended my funeral or I’ve been missing for several days. I triggered this messaging protocol ten days ago, in response to what I either perceived as an imminent, nonsurvivable threat against my life or an attempted kidnapping. Funeral or missing, I’m gone. These people don’t leave witnesses.”

A short pause ensued, followed by: “I need to verify your voice now. After the beep, please tell me the make and model of the car we bought you in high school and then say, ‘I’m really not interested in a new car. Please take me off your list.’”

What the hell? “Honda Civic. I’m not interested in a new car. Please take me off your list.”

The call disconnected. No. No. No. Wait. Did he say something wrong? Shit. He’d forgotten to say “really interested.” Did he really just mess up? A text message appeared a moment later.

Interesting. She thought someone might be listening. He got up from the bed and made his way to the kitchen island, where he kept his running headphones in one of the drawers. With the headphones ready, he poured a glass of water to make his trip to the kitchen appear more natural to an outside observer. If they had cameras in his house, it wouldn’t matter. He’d have to sweep for surveillance devices later. On his way back to the bedroom, he clicked the link, which connected him to a voice message.