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... noon sun casting jagged shadows across his face. He pulled his hoodie tighter, adjusting the cap. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a battered phone, the screen cracked but functional. His hand trembled slightly as he pressed a number from his call log.

The phone rang three times before a voice answered. Gruff, impatient, and laced with disdain.

"What is it?" Rick's father barked. "Did you figure out what to do, or are you wasting my time again?"

The man exhaled slow ...

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