"Ah, yes," Ophelia took the phone, tapped in her number, and sent herself a message. There was a cheerful little series of notes from inside the ruffly bag slung over her shoulder, signifying the receipt, and she handed Brooklyn back her phone.

"I will not change my mind," she promised, firmly. "But you may message me whenever you like, or call, and if I am able, I will be happy to answer."

Not that she supposed she knew much about Earth teenager problems, but....it was the thought that counted, right?

Orangeish Sherbert