Wyatt Wright had work over the weekend and headed to Osla on Friday afternoon. He was very busy this week and hardly ever around.
Rae Bennett went to Osla to see him on Saturday, setting off early and driving herself instead of asking Wyatt to pick her up.
On the way, Wyatt called.
"Have you gotten off the highway yet?"
Rae's car was still on the highway. "Almost," she said.
"I need to make a trip to the airport, which might take about an hour. Wait for me at the studio."
"Okay," Rae slowed down, "What are you going to the airport for, picking someone up?"
"No, I'm meeting a jewelry designer. He's transiting through Gregrock airport."
Wyatt was a photographer, so it was quite normal for him to have dealings with designers. Rae didn't ask any further.
"You keep driving, I'm going to hang up now."
"Mm."
He admonished, "Drive slowly."
"Oh."
After exiting the highway, the car turned into an intersection and had driven about a hundred meters when it hit a red light.
