The suit he had chosen to wear that day was not special and he had his reasons why. He threw a glance at his wrist watch and knew it was time to leave if he wanted to beta the traffic. The doorbell rung and he chose to ignore it; he was not in the mood for guests and went on to look at his reflection. He listened keenly as whoever it was let themself in and from the soft familiar footsteps that echoed in the hallway he knew who it was. He turned on his heel and started walking out of his bedroom to meet his guest midway. “Good morning,” Tracy greeted. She was clad in a tight-fitting black dress with a wide hat perched on her head and gloves covering her hands. She had a low heel in place of a shoe and had decided to tie her hair back in a tight bun. “Good morning,” Ryan answered as he walked towards her. “I see you are already dressed.” “I am.” “I am here to drive you to the memorial.”
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