Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Just as Phelps had predicted, Timothy could turn a blind eye to almost anything- but not this.

"I understand. I'll be there right away."

Naylor let out a sigh of relief. He still didn't know what crime Timothy had committed to land himself in jail, but after hanging up, he immediately called Phelps.

Phelps wasted no time, bringing a group along to wait for Timothy.

Before leaving, Timothy instructed the female doctor to take good care of Jessica. Leaning in close, he murmured to her, "I have something to take care of, but I'll be back soon. There's still so much I need to tell you. Wait for me."

He gave her a long, searching look before turning to leave.

Jessica's throat still burned painfully; she didn't protest as the doctor examined her.

The woman was here at Timothy's request. He didn't know about her cancer- Jessica had told him she'd coughed up blood, and presumably, that was the story he'd given the doctor as well.

So the doctor checked her throat carefully.

Jessica remembered all too well how, just two nights ago, her vocal cords had vibrated violently. Time and again, somewhere deep inside, she'd wanted to scream out in protest, but...

Herbert had warned her not to rush her recovery, to take things slow. Her vocal cords had been unused for too long; she couldn't afford to strain them.

After a thorough look, the doctor frowned. "The lining of your throat is badly inflamed. There's swelling around the vocal cords. I need to give you an anti- inflammatory shot."

She put away the laryngoscope and peeled off her gloves, continuing, "You'll also need some oral and topical medication. I didn't bring one of the medicines you'll need, but there's a pharmacy nearby. Wait here for me—I'll be back soon."

Jessica nodded.

stepped out, Jessica slipped

a narrow alley and sent a message to

when he saw her

managed to slip away right under Timothy's

location, then sped off to pick

at the cemetery. Sure enough, his mother's headstone had been split clean

father stood nearby, setting out flowers and offerings at the

deepened as he knelt to inspect the stone. Judging by

had been smashed

holiday or anniversary-why would his father

the edges sharp

scanned the area, searching carefully, and soon spotted a heavy sledgehammer hidden in

grew stormy as he approached Naylor, eyes narrowed like

shifted uneasily

intense stare. Timothy had

always been formidable-his

make even his own father feel

you here all of a sudden today?" Timothy's tone was hard, unmistakably