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 a firm

had started to respond—there was a faint glimmer of sound, a feeling that speech was almost within reach. Hope filled her chest. For the first time in years, she actually wanted

this question. He had a reason: his treatment plan had finally passed clinical trials. Every person who participated in the tests

earlier, afraid she'd get her hopes

screen, "Why are you asking me

because of Jessica. But now she was married, and he worried the truth would weigh on her, so he hedged, "I've got good news. A doctor friend of mine overseas has spent the past seven years researching a treatment for acquired aphasia. It just passed clinical trials. All fifty patients involved can speak again. Jessica, tell me do you want your

her biggest flaw, Jessica couldn't help feeling a pang

was younger, her grandmother had taken her all over the country,

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