Three hours later, after navigating a labyrinth of automated menus (“Press 1 for existing customers, press 2 for lost keys, press 3 to listen to hold music that sounds like a pan flute being strangled”), Elena finally got a human. A woman named Brenda in Ohio.
Elena felt the floor drop. Harold Finch had been the previous counselor. He had retired six months ago and moved to a cabin in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan without internet access. Or a cell phone. He communicated via postcards that featured pictures of deer. www.secondstep.org activation key
Her phone buzzed. It was Marcus, the principal. Three hours later, after navigating a labyrinth of
A man named Jerry answered, chewing something crunchy. “Second Step? Oh, yeah. You need the activation key.” Harold Finch had been the previous counselor
Leo listened, chewing on the end of his pencil. Then he said, “Mom, you’re trying to open a door by looking for the key. But what if the door isn’t locked the way you think?”
At lunch, her phone buzzed. It was a text from an unknown number, area code 906—the Upper Peninsula.