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.

over the marks, and the furrow between

on

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

once and for all. He was tired of the endless misunderstandings. It only made

never tolerate another man hovering around

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

Jessica was in for a

"Dad?"

Henry entered, calling softly.

him, and lowered his voice. "Keep it down. Don't wake your

fever, isn't

and was bleeding badly-she

it all Mom's fault to begin

never warmed up to her. Sheila had tried to apologize, tried to make nice when

out of surgery. She's next door.

worried their voices would disturb Jessica, took Henry by the

into the hallway, softly closing

latch clicked, Jessica opened her

for his father had already woken her. Timothy had

second

he rushed off to