"Jim, it's fantastic that you're coming home after all these years. As your uncle, I can't tell you how happy that makes me."The middle-aged man's voice lifted with emotion on the other end of the line.The moment the call ended, Holly Jones swung the door open, and with her entrance, the room filled with an unfamiliar masculine scent, a mix of tobacco and leather."Who were you talking to?"Her question was more of a formality than genuine interest; her gaze was glued to her phone screen, not bothering to look up at me.I was about to respond when Holly's phone interrupted us with its own ring. A man's voice, dripping with feigned frailty, came through, saying, "Ms. Jones, I owe you for the medicine you brought me. Without your help, my cold would've turned nasty. I don't know what I'd do without you!"Holly, sensing something off, quickly lowered the volume.I shut my mouth, bored with the whole charade, thinking, 'We're already heading for a divorce, aren't we?'In silence,
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