Goodbye, Mr. Regret

How could someone catch such a bad chill and fall into a feverish coma in just a matter of moments?

Timothy frowned, his brows knitting together.

When Henry saw that his mother was just running a high fever and nothing worse,

the worry in his eyes faded. Compared to her, Sheila was in much graver

condition.

Jessica was wheeled into a hospital room.

Timothy followed, pausing outside the door to call Mabel.

"Could you bring over a change of clothes for Mrs. Wheeler? She'll need a full set -inside and out."

"Of course, sir."

He stepped quietly into the room and sat by the bedside, reaching out to feel Jessica's forehead.

Her fever had gone down a little, though she still looked terribly pale and weak.

Was she asleep, or had she simply not yet woken from her delirium?

He gently took her hand, his gaze falling to the bruises ringing her wrist. His heart clenched with guilt.

brushed softly over the marks, and the furrow between his brows grew

nothing going on between him

he was. He barely spent time with women,

woke up, he'd set everything straight, explain the truth about Sheila once and for all. He was tired

never tolerate another man hovering

out the necklace Herbert had given him from his jacket pocket.

compete with him for Jessica was in for a rude awakening.

"Dad?"

Henry entered, calling softly.

pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him, and

at the bed. It's just a fever, isn't it?

reopened and was bleeding badly-she was the one who

wasn't it all Mom's fault to

apologize, tried to make nice when she heard

Sheila's out of surgery. She's next door. Aren't you

their voices would disturb Jessica, took Henry

hallway, softly closing the door

moment the latch clicked,

woken her. Timothy had only pretended to be

The second

rushed off to see