"Wyatt Wright."
Wyatt was snapped back to reality and withdrew his gaze that had been resting on the mother and son.
Rae Bennett ran over, her joy spilling out from her curved eyebrows and eyes, "How long have you been waiting?"
"Not too long."
"Have you been very tired these past few days?" Rae stared at Wyatt's face, "Your complexion doesn't look too good, seems like you've lost some weight."
"I'm okay, not that tired, just haven't adjusted my biological clock yet," Wyatt asked her, "Have you had lunch?"
"Not yet."
He checked the time, thinking it might be too rushed to go out for lunch, "Is 2:30 PM too late to get back?"
"It's not late." She could take time off.
"Let's go, have lunch."
Wyatt took Rae to a private kitchen restaurant nearby, not far from the funeral home. The restaurant was doing well, and they hadn't managed to book a private room, so they sat by a window on the second floor.
The afternoon sun was just right, and the streets were bustling with traffic.
