"Excuse me, sweetheart? Why are you not eating your food? Do you not like it? Or is there anything wrong?"?

　　I cleared my throat before speaking a word to my mom. It was dinner time, and she cooked a spicy buttered chicken and toasted some buns. Those were my favorites, but something else is bothering me.

　　It would be the moment that I would tell her what we were handling. But it was all over the news, anyway. If I could just hold back and let her know the ...