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Still…

Cybersecurity seemed like a strange hobby for someone calling herself Grandma Ruth.

Unless…

Maybe Grandma Ruth wasn’t actually a grandmother. Maybe she was twenty-three, lived in somebody’s basement surrounded by computer monitors, and had adopted the username ironically.

That was more believable than an elderly woman researching encrypted messaging platforms.

The chat continued flying past.

Trevor: Are u sure u didnt 4get anyone?

Karen: Type normally.

Trevor: wat IS normal in lyfe

Hudson: Definitely not whatever you’re doing.

Grandpa Alfonse: BISCUITS?

There was a full minute of silence.

Then—

Grandma Ruth: YOUR GRANDFATHER WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHO HAS THE CHEDDAR ROLL RECIPE FROM DINNER TONIGHT. HE’D APPRECIATE IF YOU’D SEND IT TO HIM.

Three people responded with photos of recipes.

One person sent only a thumbs-up.

Someone else accidentally uploaded a picture of a lawn mower. Nobody questioned it.

I reached the bottom of the conversation, then realized there wasn’t a bottom. More messages appeared before I finished reading the last ones.

I really needed to leave.

I tapped the group information.

Leave Conversation

My thumb hovered. Then another message arrived.

Hilary: Mom… did you really type everyone’s phone numbers in by hand?

Grandma Ruth: YES.

Several people began typing at once.

Patty: EVERYONE??

Grandma Ruth: I COULDN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO TRANSFER CONTACTS.

Trevor: legendary honestly

Karen: That’s not legendary. That’s inefficient.

Grandma Ruth: I MADE SURE NOBODY GOT LEFT OUT.