The incessant buzzing from within Agnes' purse finally caught Ryder's attention. He frowned, determined not to answer, but the persistent ringing of two back-to-back calls made him reconsider.
Sighing, Ryder opened Agnes' purse and retrieved the vibrating phone. The incoming call was from a string of digits that, despite the lack of a saved contact name, Ryder recognized immediately—it was Jared's number.
Agnes hadn't bothered to save Jared's contact details. Perhaps she knew it by heart, no need for a label. The phone continued its relentless dance in Ryder's hand, and after a moment's hesitation, he answered.
"Where are you? When are you coming back?" Jared's voice was terse on the other end.
There was a pause before Ryder called out, "Uncle, it's me."
Silence fell on the line, and Ryder could almost picture Jared's furrowed brow.
After a brief wait, Jared spoke again, "Why do you have Agnes' phone? Where is she?"
"She had too much to drink, and now she's at my place. You should come pick her up," Ryder replied.
Jared's response was a chilling silence. Even through the phone, Ryder could feel the cold disapproval emanating from the other side. Finally, Jared said, "I'll be right there."
Once the call ended, Ryder sat motionless for a long time, his heart clenching in waves of pain. Even if Agnes was inebriated, it wasn't his place to harbor her. This was the quandary he found himself in.
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