Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 93

Jessica forced a faint smile.

No matter how tactfully Sallie put it, the message was always the same— Jessica's muteness was a disappointment.

She should try harder.

But Jessica had been trying, day after day, to prove herself worthy of Timothy. She'd done everything she could think of. If only the Lawsons could show her a little more respect, maybe Henry wouldn't have grown so distant, so ashamed of having a mother who couldn't speak.

But what could she do? She was voiceless, powerless.

That's why she was so willing to support Carlisle and the others they worked so hard to prove that even without a voice, they could live, work, and create just like anyone else.

Sallie, meanwhile, felt she'd done all she could for Jessica. She'd given her advice, offered reminders, and now, if Jessica couldn't appreciate it, she'd just have to deal with the consequences herself. As for Sheila, Sallie was sure their grandfather would step in.

With that, Sallie left.

Jessica made her way to Henry's hospital room.

He'd had surgery just before dawn; now that the anesthesia had worn off, he probably still hurt. Even in his sleep, his small face was scrunched up in pain.

to blame him. But it stung, deeply, that he clung to Sheila and seemed embarrassed by his own mother. Every time he pushed her away, it cut her

so she wasn't tired that night. She kept watch at Henry's bedside, quietly waiting

Morning came.

his bed, her head resting on her arms. Something

his eyes to see his

he didn't love her. But she

him-his dad was the wealthiest man in Riverside City, and naturally, everyone assumed his mom must be

didn't want them to find out that his

"Mom..." he whispered.

head snapped up at the sound of his

stay here all night?"

Jessica nodded.

pulled out her phone and typed into a text-to-speech app: "Henry, are you hungry? Do

noticed the ring on Jessica's finger-the one his dad had given her. He

voice was pleasant enough, but it was still artificial, a reminder that his

felt so pointless, even childish. He rolled his eyes. "You can just use sign language, Mom. I know how to read it. Dad gave you that talking ring so you can communicate with

dull ache throbbed in

phone, and began signing: "I'll go get you something to eat. You