Goodbye, Mr. Regret

With this, Jessica saw hope-clear and bright, flickering to life in her chest.

As hope grew, so did her longing to speak. The moment her throat felt a little less raw, she set down her water glass and signed, "Herbert, thank you."

Herbert smiled gently. "After all these years, you don't need to thank me."

She signed again, "With my condition, how long before I can talk again?"

She needed to know. Half a year-that was all the time she had left. If she could recover within those six months, maybe she could finally do all the things she'd once dreamed of, the ones that had always felt out of reach.

"We'll need to wait for your neurological test results before I can give you a definite answer," Herbert replied. "But trust me, it shouldn't take too long. My friend's had patients in worse shape recover in about six months. You're already able to make sounds, so I'd say you'll be fine within half a year."

A soft smile spread across Jessica's lovely face. Herbert could tell how badly she wanted to speak again. Honestly, he thought she'd need much less time—maybe just a few months-but he set her expectations a bit longer, knowing she'd be even more thrilled if she could beat that timeline.

He led her off for her neurological exam.

***

drank herself into a restless sleep, and woke up with

his anger flared. "Have you forgotten

Sheila's voice was hoarse, her face twisted in

darkened. "Don't say another word. I'm taking

when a shrill cry rang out behind him. Whipping around, he saw Sheila stumble, her ankle

by the

of cedar and a hint of smoke from his jacket. For a moment, she felt impossibly close to him. She

him—so good, so dependable-yet

of lust, Sheila could have endured it. But she couldn't shake the

mysterious allure. Men couldn't resist a woman who seemed so