Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"How did he suddenly pass out? He was perfectly fine when I left the house."

"He just fainted out of nowhere while we were eating. I'm not sure what happened, really."

Mabel's voice trembled with worry.

"I'll be right there," Timothy replied at once.

He pocketed his phone and turned to Jessica. "Henry's fainted. I have to go home now. The sketchbook..."

Timothy glanced at the paper-cut illustrations in his hand, then looked at Jessica. "Henry made these himself. I hope you'll take a good look at them.”

He pressed the illustrations into Jessica's hands before hurrying out to his car.

Jessica stood there, the sketchbook clutched to her chest, her emotions tangled. She didn't want to look at it.

But the call about Henry fainting... Of course she was worried.

In the past, she would have dropped everything and rushed after them, anxiety knotting her stomach.

Now, even though she stayed behind, her heart was already with them.

She didn't really believe anything serious would happen to Henry, but fainting out of the blue was never a trivial matter.

Timothy was trying to be considerate. He knew she wasn't ready to face him or their son together, so he hadn't asked her to come to the hospital.

All Henry's troubles used to fall squarely on Jessica's shoulders. Timothy had never really needed to worry.

for him, Timothy had felt

was time he stepped up as a father. She couldn't be expected to handle

dazed, before she finally turned and walked quietly into

and Mrs. Zimmerman were waiting

still

wouldn't take it?"

Jessica nodded.

"He's gone already?"

She nodded again. "Yeah."

a little put out. That

sank onto the couch and opened the

first page was a delicate paper-cut

were

bright kid, with a knack

Jessica and

copied from a photo of mother and son she kept on her

just a baby, swaddled

that photo once, years ago, and somehow remembered every

quietly taking in the images over

see that Timothy still had a place

was his mother. She might be disappointed in her son, might

mother could

It was like his own mom-after his sister disappeared, she'd never stopped worrying, never stopped hoping, until