Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 13

"She's here for the comic convention. I actually made a whole book of paper-cut illustrations for her. I wonder if she'll like it?"

Jessica's throat tightened.

She watched as Timothy and Henry stepped into the elevator together.

She was the one who had taught Henry how to make those paper-cut illustrations.

Most kids loved cartoons, and since she couldn't speak, she'd worried Henry might get bored when she watched him. After each show, she'd sit with him and do crafts, cutting out his favorite cartoon characters, making up little stories, and pasting them into a scrapbook.

Henry used to praise her for how pretty her paper-cuts looked, and in time, he'd learned to do it alongside her.

They'd created so many of those illustrated scrapbooks together.

Henry once promised that when he could finish a whole book by himself, the very first one would be for his mom.

Jessica never expected that day would come so soon-that Henry could already make a whole scrapbook on his own.

Her face pale, Jessica stepped wordlessly into the elevator.

Back in her room, a dull ache burned in her stomach, and fatigue pressed down like a heavy blanket.

water, took some medicine, and lay down to rest. Her sleep

of that fire

was already

was an old

lake, each night at eight, crowds would gather along the

City-where fireworks burst over the water every evening. If you

than thirty minutes from The Gilded Whisper Estates, but in seven

longed for those little moments with the man she loved. If Timothy wouldn't go, she felt there was no point

wish was shelved

with her days numbered, she owed herself

washed her face, threw on a

crowds drifted

walked hand-in-hand, whispering, some stealing kisses

through the throng, offering roses to every pair they

every rose in the country

had never involved roses. In truth, it

her gaze away

fireworks show was about

sharp boom, the first firework soared

the dusk, scattering color

another, bursts of twin lotus blossoms bloomed above