Last night we ran a session on the little boy Betsy texted us about.
I texted you the street address.
Come see me, he texted his spy chief.
"I texted you my email address in case you want to email," the Watcher said and held up his phone.
He stood in the center, one phone at his ear while he texted on another.
She smiled at his reply, relieved, then texted Dusty.
He pulled out his phone, texted Bianca, and waited, willing the message to make it to her in the in-between world where he'd accidentally sent her.
She texted to the Watcher.
Ignoring the hisses of the others, she locked herself in a bathroom stall and texted her boss, Dusty.
Linda texted back and forth with her husband for a few minutes.
He hadn't texted her to say he was going out before heading to Atlanta this evening.
Puzzled, she texted him again.
Still, she'd texted once, soon after Dusty disappeared, asking her Watcher where her mate was.
He texted back then tucked it in his pocket.
Yeah. I texted her.
He pulled out his phone and texted Ingrid.
Jessi texted Ashley and Brandon to contact her right away then retreated into the apartment and paced.
She rolled her eyes but texted Xander the message.
Xander snorted as she texted her friend.
Jenn texted him earlier to let him know his condo no longer existed.