Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The moment Timothy caught sight of Herbert standing protectively beside Jessica, his lips pressed into a hard, bloodless line.

Herbert, of course, noticed Timothy as well.

Timothy didn't bother hiding how intimately he held the woman in his arms; even when running into his own wife, he made no attempt to keep up appearances.

It was outrageous.

Without another glance at Timothy, Jessica turned toward Herbert and quietly signed, "Let's go."

She acted as if Timothy didn't exist.

Both Timothy and Sheila understood Jessica's sign language.

Sheila, a beat behind everyone else, finally spoke up. "Timothy, Jessica's right here. You can put me down now."

Her voice was still rough and low from the strain.

"Don't talk. Protect your voice," Timothy replied, his tone clipped but concerned.

Jessica and Herbert were already heading toward the exam room when Timothy's words drifted to her ears.

Sheila had undergone surgery on her vocal cords. The fact that she could now do voice-overs for her cartoons meant her recovery was complete.

fussing about her

into the exam room,

her own throat exam. Herbert nodded, understanding her worry, and led her to his office

give you some medication to help with recovery-herbal supplements, nothing that'll cause side effects. As for your brain scans,

Jessica nodded in agreement.

handed her the

she had no desire to run

loving Timothy or

if she

holding Sheila like that, even the blind could see what

course, Herbert was tactful enough not to mention Timothy's behavior with another woman.

home,"

her instructions for the medication,

the exam room, Timothy emerged and tracked down a doctor to ask about

on the

"Come in," Herbert called.

looked up-only

help but let out a short, mirthless

day he saw Jessica—Little Mute, as he called her-standing