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The sudden ring of the phone pierced through the desolate silence of the guesthouse room, jarring Marina from her tormented reverie. A flicker of dread, then a pang of something akin to morbid curiosity, stirred within her. Who could possibly be calling her now, in the midst of her profound isolation? Hesitantly, she answered, her voice a fragile whisper. On the other end, the voice was unmistakable, yet utterly transformed. It was Nadine, Elias’s ex-wife, the very woman who had so cruelly cast her out just days before. But this was not the confident, venomous tone Marina remembered. Instead, Nadine’s voice was trembling, edged with an unfamiliar desperation, a raw vulnerability that sent shivers down Marina’s spine. “You need to come here right now,” Nadine pleaded, her words barely audible above what sounded like suppressed sobs. “Please.” Marina hesitated, caught in a brutal internal conflict. Should she feel anger, indignation, or was there something deeper, something unsettlingly urgent in Nadine’s broken plea that compelled her to consider the impossible?
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