Goodbye, Mr. Regret

After ending the call, Timothy checked the time. The day before the national holiday was a weekend, so after school let out the day after tomorrow, Henry wouldn't need to go back until the break was over.

Timothy planned to book a flight for the morning two days from now. That way, they could still spend the afternoon out together.

He instructed his assistant to reserve two plane tickets. As he sent over their passport numbers, a thought struck him—Mabel had called earlier to say Jessica's phone was ringing, but she wouldn't answer.

Not picking up made sense. She couldn't speak anyway.

Was she staying out all day because he'd invited her to dinner-then canceled at the last minute?

He and Jessica had been married for seven years, and not once had the three of them gone on a trip as a family.

On impulse, he told his assistant to book three tickets instead.

But he didn't know Jessica's passport number, so he shot her a quick text:

[Oakwood's got a comic con over the holiday. Henry wants to go. Send me your passport number so I can book the tickets.]

His message might as well have been tossed into a black hole.

Timothy got home, but still hadn't received a reply from Jessica.

And she still hadn't come back.

emotions in check, but tonight, that

him she still

sent over his and Henry's

Henry was laughing and chatting with

it was as if

Mrs. Lawson hasn't come home. If she's gone all night, she'll have been

coming home. She wasn't answering texts. Even when Timothy tried to include her in

had never caused him this kind of

left him with a burning

"Stop making a fuss about someone going missing. Even a kidnapper wouldn't bother taking someone who

Mabel fell silent immediately.

barely touched his dinner. He set down his fork and got up, heading

Sheila's eyes darkened.

leaned in, whispering, "Miss Sheila, is

your dinner. I'll go check on

the master bedroom and knocked.

"Come in."

open

cigarette in hand, smoke curling around