Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 8

"Miss Sheila? Is that really you?"

Sheila turned, catching Henry's gaze.

For a moment, Henry forgot all about looking for his mother. Beaming, he scurried over to Sheila's side.

Sheila's brows knit together, her voice soft and apologetic. "Henry, last night over dinner, you mentioned not liking the school lunches. I wanted to make you something myself to take today, but... I think I messed up."

No sooner had she finished speaking than the acrid smell of burning filled the air then flames leapt up from the pan on the stove.

With a frightened gasp, Sheila dropped to the floor, curling into a tight ball.

Henry, alarmed, wrapped his arms around her and shouted, "Dad! There's a fire in the kitchen! Dad!"

As he tried to soothe her, he gently patted Sheila's back. "Miss Sheila, it's okay. Don't be scared."

Timothy hurried in, drawn by the commotion. Without missing a beat, he turned off the gas and clamped the lid onto the flaming pan. The fire sputtered out almost immediately.

But Sheila was still trembling, unable to move.

Concern shadowed Timothy's usually composed features.

He knelt down beside her and called, more gently this time, "Sheila."

her head, her eyes shimmering

am I really so

flashed across Timothy's mind-a

had been

fault. You shouldn't come into

gaze darkened as he looked at Henry. "Miss Sheila went through a fire once. She's afraid of it. You're not

voice urgent. "Timothy, it's not Henry's fault. He never asked me to

you're so afraid

didn't want you eating poorly at

trembling. "Miss Sheila, you're too good to me. Please don't ever go into

feet, but her legs buckled. Without hesitation, he scooped her up in

backpack. We're eating out

When she saw Timothy

Timothy's sister-in-law. Now, she didn't

What would people think?

out, it would

open the car

reluctantly, opening the door with

isn't home. Why didn't you make

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