Because the suspense has been killing me since I found out the number was from a Baltimore Detention Center.
  1. Someone has the wrong number.
    The most logical reason, but I feel like someone with the wrong number would realize it after hearing my voicemail so many times.
  2. I have a stalker.
    Highly unlikely, but I'm not sure what Instagram's presence is like inside the slammer.
  3. My youngest cousin forgot I moved across the country and can't help him.
    He got suspended from middle school once for turning in a poem about drugs as an English assignment.
  4. One of my law-breaking friends thinks I'm rich.
    Sorry pals, while I do live across from a bail bonds place, I owe all of my money to student loans and vet bills.
  5. All of my dreams are coming true, and Wentworth Miller is asking me to help him break out.
    What? He is not actually Michael Scofield? Lies.