Eric pressed the green button and switched the call to speaker mode.
"Eric, darling… what took you so long to answer my call?"
Agnes's voice flowed through the speaker—warm, calm, and utterly detached from the storm erupting in the office.
Dorothy froze. So did David.
Their eyes locked on the phone, the familiar sound of their daughter's voice slamming into them like a shockwave.
It was her. No doubt about it.
Eric turned toward them slowly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Too brief to name—but Dorothy's gut churned with unease.
Before he could speak, she lunged forward and snatched the phone from his hand.
"Agnes? Sweetheart, where are you?" Dorothy's voice cracked, thick with disbelief and fear. Her hands trembled violently, the phone nearly slipping through her fingers. "Are you okay? Please, just tell me you're okay."
There was a beat of static—then her voice again.
"Mom?" Agnes sounded confused. "What are you doing there… with Eric?"
