Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Before she left, Jessica still wanted to see Henry one last time.

After all, he was her own flesh and blood.-

He was only six-just a child, really. How could a mother possibly hold a grudge against her own son?

As she reached Henry's bedroom door, she heard his voice from inside.

"Miss Sheila, my mom is usually very polite. I don't know what happened today. I want to apologize for her. You're an adult, so please don't be mad at her, okay?"

He was too young to understand the tangled web of adult relationships. If Sheila really was Timothy's aunt, then by family standards, there was nothing wrong with what Henry said.

He was trying to defend her.

Jessica felt a bittersweet twinge of comfort.

She was about to push open the door when Henry continued, "Miss Sheila, thank you for being so understanding and not getting upset with my mom. I just wish my mom could talk as nicely as you do. Then I wouldn't have to worry about my classmates making fun of her for being mute."

...

"Yeah, there's a kid in my class whose mom limps, and everyone teases him all the time. I don't want to end up like that being laughed at, not able to hold my head up."

Jessica let go of the doorknob, her breath catching painfully in her chest.

The older Henry got, the less he could accept her shortcomings.

She had barely six months left to live...

When she was gone, Timothy would be Henry's only guardian.

would remarry, find some perfectly healthy woman to

were the first things she worried about-afraid that a stepmother might mistreat

the center of her world. From the day he was born, she had carried a

maybe none of

saw her as nothing but a

was better not to see

light creeping

body

in the wrong

allergy to the hotel bedding could have been explained easily-Jessica would have

opened the bedroom door, a gust of air fluttering a slip of

and Jessica always kept the house spotless. It was strange

as soon as his

closed the door behind him, strode to the living room,

"Yes, sir. You're home."

"Where's Jessica?"

not in

didn't know where

of paper, Timothy told her, "After breakfast, make sure to tidy up the

"Of course."

pulled out his phone

number you

night, Sheila had twisted her ankle just after leaving the house. He'd taken her to the hospital-she'd been in pain all night. She'd finally

back for days—and his attitude last night hadn't helped. He'd even asked his assistant to wait in line for more than half an hour at Velvet Fork

of the house, her phone was off, and now

off his tie, feeling