Love, Aspen

The automated voice asked Aspen to say her name and her chapped lips formed around her first and last name slowly. “Aspen Whiting.”

Matt jumped as he heard his phone buzzing on the coffee table. He looked at the number and cocked his head slightly, as it was unfamiliar. He pressed the answer button.

Aspen waited with her breath caught in her throat for Matt to accept the call.

“Hello,” the automated voice spoke again. “You have a call from Aspen Whiting from the Ada County juvenile detention center. Charges may apply, do you accept the call?”