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?"

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

clever, hard-headed grandson- he

Phelps. "Naylor, listen-go to the cemetery

face went pale. "Dad, are you out of your mind? You want me to vandalize Hannah's grave? What if her

mattered; you didn't mess around with the dead. Some things, it was best

you more afraid of Hannah's ghost coming

with the law? No way. I don't

it."

"Are you trying to give me a stroke? Why else would ask you to touch Hannah's grave?

his father's stunt didn't work, there

"Short of something happening to his mother, you tell me what else could possibly get Timothy back

didn't dare ask anyone else to 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,

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