Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Before Timothy had even finished speaking with the family doctor for the Lawsons, his phone buzzed again—this time it was Naylor Lawson, sounding frantic.

"Timothy, you need to get to the hospital, quick! Your grandfather just collapsed!"

Timothy's response was curt. "If he's collapsed, call the doctor. What do you want me to do? I'm not a doctor-I can't treat him."

Without waiting for an answer, he hung up.

On the other end, Naylor glared at the phone in frustration. "That ungrateful brat! Even when his grandfather falls ill, he won't come home!"

Realizing his ruse wasn't working, Phelps opened his eyes and snapped, "You two, think of something! I want Timothy back here now!"

Naylor blinked, confused. "Dad, you're not even unconscious?"

Phelps shot him a glare. "What, disappointed I'm still breathing?"

his breath, Naylor said, "No wonder Timothy won't come back- he probably

looked thoroughly disgruntled. Having a clever, hard-headed grandson- he wasn't sure if it was

new idea struck Phelps. "Naylor, listen-go to the cemetery and damage Timothy's mother's

me to vandalize Hannah's grave? What if her spirit

and the blessings of the departed mattered; you didn't mess around with the dead. Some things,

ghost coming for

raised an eyebrow. "Timothy's in trouble with the law? No way. I

it."

you to touch Hannah's grave? Or do you think by faking an illness

his father's stunt

mother, you tell me what else could possibly get Timothy back here right now? If you

don such thing. Resigned, he gathered a few offerings and went to the cemetery himself. Setting them by Hannah's headstone, he fit a candle and whispered a prayer, explaining to Hannah Howard that his son was in trouble, that he hoped she'd understand he meant no disrespect, and begged

he'd powered it on, expecting the family doctor to arrive soon-he'd need