Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

CHAPTER
9
Charon’s Crossing stayed relatively busy for most of the day. There was a
lull mid-afternoon before more people came as the blue sky started to shift
toward the encroaching dark. Wallace stayed in the kitchen, feeling
voyeuristic as he watched the customers filter in and out.
He was surprised (Mei be damned) to see that not a single person tried to
boot up a laptop or spend any time on their phones. Even those who came
alone seemed happy enough to just sit in their chairs, taking in the noise of
the tea shop. He was slightly amused (and more than a little horrified) when
he tried to figure out what day it was, only to realize he had no idea. It took
him a moment to count back the days. He’d died on a Sunday. His funeral had
been Wednesday.
Which meant today was Thursday, though it felt like weeks had passed. If
he were still alive, he’d be in the office, his day hours from being over. He
always kept himself busy to the point of exhaustion, so much so that he’d
usually collapse by the time he got home, falling face-first onto his bed until
his alarm blared bright and early the next morning to begin all over again.
It was illuminating.
All that work, all that he’d done, the life he’d built. Had it mattered? What
had been the point of anything?
He didn’t know. It hurt to think about.
With these thoughts thundering around his head, he played the part of the
voyeur as he had nothing else to do.
Mei was in and out of the kitchen, telling Wallace she preferred to stay in
the back if at all possible. “Hugo’s the people person,” she told him. “He
likes to talk to everyone. I don’t.”
“You’re in the wrong line of work if that’s the case.”