Chapter 5

Timothy arched an eyebrow, staring irritably at the razor in his hand.

"Whatever. I'll just make do."

After Henry got up, father and son sat down together for breakfast.

Henry had barely tasted his chicken noodle soup before he grimaced and called out, "Mom, did you put too much salt in this?"

No answer.

He tried again, a little louder. "Mom?"

Timothy replied calmly, "Stop calling, your mom isn't home."

Immediately, Henry tapped at his smartwatch, trying to call Jessica, but her phone was switched off.

Lowering his voice, Henry said, "Dad, do you think Mom's upset and ran away?"

"She didn't."

With both him and their son at home, Timothy was certain Jessica wouldn't just leave.

"Good. I still think Mom's breakfasts taste better, though."

Neither of them really enjoyed the meal that morning; it just didn't compare to what they were used to.

"Dad, last night Mom made Miss Sheila so mad she left. Is she coming to see me today?"

"She twisted her ankle and is in the hospital. She probably won't be able to visit today."

face tightened with worry. "Oh no, Miss Sheila hurt her foot? That must really hurt. Dad, can

firm.

head, not daring to push further, and mumbled, "Can I

"That's fine."

his arms around Timothy, standing

up early, okay?

ruffled Henry's hair and stood up, personally taking him

her cleaning supplies. Normally, Mrs. Williams took care of the room herself, so it was already

window to

immaculate, she still

wind was

diagnosis letter was

had returned to her

tidied up the house, the sun

off her phone, wanting nothing more than a

it was the liver cancer, or maybe it was just the relief of having nothing

her phone back

nonstop with text

texts first—several missed calls,

Mabel was

have called back

she just

had transferred her

laugh. He needed her out of the way again. She opened her messaging

two messages-one from the morning, one from

you always want to try The Silverthread Eatery?

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