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.

maybe Timothy would remarry, find some perfectly healthy woman to be Henry's

the first things she worried about-afraid that

of her world. From the day he

maybe none of that

nothing

it was better not

light creeping into

body through the front

knew he'd been in the wrong last

hotel bedding could have been explained easily-Jessica would have

gust of air fluttering a slip of paper beneath the

stickler for cleanliness, and Jessica always kept the house spotless. It was strange to find a

room was empty. His sharp features hardened with a chill. Normally, as soon as his car pulled into the drive, Jessica would

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

"Yes, sir. You're home."

"Where's Jessica?"

hesitated. "She's not in the

didn't know where she

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

"Of course."

his phone and

sorry, the number you have dialed

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

even asked his assistant to wait in line for more than half an hour at Velvet Fork to buy Jessica her favorite pastries.

of the house, her phone was off, and now she was

off

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