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.

marks, and

was nothing going on between him

always thought Jessica understood the kind of man he was. He barely spent time with women,

up, he'd set everything straight, explain the truth about Sheila once and for all. He was tired of the endless misunderstandings. It only made both

tolerate another man hovering around

pulled out the necklace Herbert had given him from his jacket pocket. He stared at it for a moment,

for Jessica was in for a rude awakening. The Wheeler Group needed to be taught

"Dad?"

Henry entered, calling softly.

to his lips, shushing him, and lowered his voice. "Keep it

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

and was bleeding badly-she

Mom's fault to

never warmed up to her. Sheila had tried to apologize, tried to make nice when she heard Mom was coming home,

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

Jessica, took Henry by

hallway, softly closing the

clicked, Jessica opened

his father had already woken her. Timothy had only pretended to

her. The second he he

rushed off to see her.