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.

Timothy would remarry, find some perfectly

cancer, these were the first things she worried about-afraid that a

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

none of that

as nothing but a

better not to

light creeping

body through the front

in the wrong

to the hotel bedding could

door, a gust of air fluttering a slip of paper

cleanliness, and Jessica always kept the house spotless. It was

room was empty. His sharp features hardened with a chill. Normally, as soon as his

behind him, strode to

"Yes, sir. You're home."

"Where's Jessica?"

"She's not in

know where

the scrap of paper, Timothy told her, "After breakfast, make

"Of course."

pulled out his phone and

number you have dialed is

been in pain all night. She'd finally managed to fall asleep, and he'd rushed home as soon as

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 to buy Jessica her

couldn't understand―Jessica wasn't taking care of the house, her phone was off, and now she was nowhere

off his tie, feeling