The butler kept his head down, nervous they might blame him for not stopping Timothy.

Honestly, in a situation like this, what could he have done?

Vince understood. None of them had been around, and Timothy had brought in a specialist for Grandpa, trying to help. What could he really say?

Still, it bothered him. He muttered under his breath, "All for show."

By now, Larkin had drifted off to sleep and was out of immediate danger. They could finally breathe a little easier.

But Jessica still couldn't relax. She asked the butler which room Daisy was in. He gave her the number, and Jessica asked Vince to go with her.

As they reached the door, Jessica peeked through the small window. She saw Timothy carrying a basin of water out of the room. He wrung out a towel, folded it neatly, gently lifted the one from Daisy's forehead, and replaced it with the fresh

one.

Jessica paused, transfixed.

So, he did know how to look after a sick child.

But in the past, he never bothered.

always

He could never forgive

"Daisy is a Zimmerman. Of course we'll look after

Inside, Timothy was wringing out another towel. He looked up

at

slipped into the basin, sending

been three or four days, but seeing her again made it painfully clear- he'd missed her with every fiber of

of longing crashed through

bolted upright and rushed to Jessica. Even with Vince there, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, as if he could press her into

take life without her

was

without her in

was left

someone cooked, it never felt like

"Jessy..."

said her name hoarsely,

push him away, but he only held her

him off her. "What the hell do you think you're

the wrinkles he'd left on her blouse, her movements chilly and distant,

the words stick in his

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