Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"Jessy, you can ask your brother yourself," Timothy Lawson explained. "Who called him and told him to bring you back to the Zimmerman family? Who made sure you were welcomed home?"

Vince Zimmerman's face darkened with irritation. "Timothy, I already knew Jessy was my sister before you ever picked up the phone. Don't try to take credit for something you didn't do. After all these years, you should know me better than that. When you called, did I even ask a single extra question? Didn't that tell you I already knew?"

Timothy, still harboring doubts, seized the moment to probe. "Then how did you find out?"

Vince's tone was almost mocking. "Guess I'll spell it out for you. Yates mentioned more than once that Jessy reminded him of my little sister. Even Sheila Howard said the same when she saw me said she'd seen photos online and thought Daisy looked a lot like Jessy. I was suspicious, so I went straight to Jessy's hometown to find her. I wanted to ask for some childhood photos, but Herbert Wheeler pulled me aside, probably thinking I was interested in her. So I took the chance to ask Herbert if Jessy was really their biological child. Herbert told me she has a birthmark-said that proves it."

Timothy's brow furrowed, his expression tightening. "So Herbert told you about her birthmark."

"That's right. The moment I found out, I could've killed you!" Vince spat the words out between clenched teeth.

Timothy's gaze darkened, nearly turning black with rage. He turned to Jessy, his voice sharp and accusing. "Jessy, how does Herbert know about your birthmark? Did you two...?"

That birthmark was in such a private spot-how could Herbert possibly know? Suddenly Timothy clutched his chest and coughed up blood.

A spray of bright red splattered across the white iron gate, droplets dotting the fresh layer of snow at their feet, the crimson shockingly vivid.

"Timothy!"

just as the blood left

grabbing his arm to steady

hurried up behind, supporting him from the other

knowing about Jessica Greene's birthmark stabbed deep, making his legs buckle. If Sallie hadn't caught him, he would have collapsed right there in

to his lips as his

you gone with

shot him a look that said he was

look that said

because, as a child, she'd

nov

imagination was

seven years of marriage, did he still not know what kind of person

question with a response. “Come on, Vince. Let's go inside," she

hands, clutching the iron