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.

softly over the marks, and the

going on between

of marriage-he'd always thought Jessica understood the kind of man he was. He

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

man hovering around her,

Herbert had given him from his jacket pocket. He stared at it for a moment, then put it

dared to compete with him for Jessica was in for a rude awakening. The Wheeler

"Dad?"

Henry entered, calling softly.

pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him, and lowered his voice. "Keep

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

reopened and was bleeding badly-she was the one

all Mom's

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

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

voices would disturb Jessica, took Henry by the hand

the hallway, softly closing the door behind

clicked, Jessica opened

father had already woken her. Timothy

her. The second he he

was out, he rushed off