Goodbye, Mr. Regret

She picked up her phone, surprised to see an incoming video call from Herbert Wheeler.

Ever since that day outside the amusement park, when Timothy had forcibly taken her away from the café, she'd been worried about dragging Herbert into her troubles and hadn't contacted him since. Herbert, for his part, hadn't reached out to her, either.

Jessica hesitated for a moment, then accepted the call and propped her phone up on its stand.

As soon as the video connected, Herbert's cheerful face appeared on the screen. He waved at her with a big, playful grin.

Jessica couldn't help but smile and wave back.

Herbert's expression softened into seriousness. "Little Mute," he said gently, "do you want to speak again?"

She paused, caught off guard.

Herbert had asked her this before tonight, she would have given

her vocal cords had started to respond—there was a faint glimmer of sound, a feeling that speech was almost within reach.

was the first time Herbert had ever asked her this question. He had a reason: his treatment plan had

her earlier, afraid she'd get her hopes up only to

"Why are you asking me this

so he hedged, "I've got good news. A doctor friend of mine overseas has spent the past seven years researching

She really did. But confronted with her biggest flaw, Jessica couldn't help feeling

all, so many years had passed. When she was younger, her grandmother had taken her all over the country, seeking a cure. Jessica

your grandmother hit you hard. But have you ever thought about what she wanted most? She wanted you to be healed. I know she's gone now, but if you could stand at her grave and call out to her-Grandma'-don't you think she'd hear you, wherever she is? Little Mute, will you give yourself