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-

grandson- he wasn't sure if it was a blessing or

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

are you out of your mind? You want me to vandalize Hannah's grave? What if her

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

afraid of Hannah's ghost coming for you at night, or of Timothy ending

trouble with the law? No way. I

it."

ask you to touch

even his father's stunt didn't

mother, you tell me what else could possibly get Timothy back here right now? If you can't think of anything better, then talk it

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

Timothy hadn't turned off his phone since he'd powered it on, expecting the family doctor to arrive soon-he'd need to go