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What was her purpose?
"Zakky, I think I have a fever..." Daphne's voice trembled weakly over the phone, even softer than last week's drunken call. Despite the distance, Zak could feel her discomfort.

His brow furrowed, showing no concern, only indifference as he lowered his voice. "Why call me if you're feeling unwell?"

"There's no one else..."

"What about your husband?"

"I don't have a husband..."

Not because her husband's not around, but because she doesn't have a husband.

Divorced?

Daphne's breaths came in labored gasps, each word a struggle.

Zak remained silent for a moment before replying, "If you're really unwell, call 911. Why reach out to me? Or do you want me to call for you?"

Daphne had been popular back in Utah, surrounded by friends. So why turn to him now?

A hint of irritation prickled within Zak. Didn't Daphne understand? Did she think that after seven years, she could just come back into his life as if nothing had changed?

No response came through the phone, only the heavy rhythm o
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