Jessica curled her fingers tightly.
"Of course I'm sure." Henry replied cheerfully, "If I give this to Miss Sheila, I get to see it too. And if Miss Sheila knows it's because of me that she got this piece, maybe she'll like me even more."
The fabric Jessica was holding suddenly slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a dull thud.
Timothy and Henry both turned around.
When Henry saw Jessica, his eyes lit up. He hadn't seen his mother in days, and he missed her. He was about to jump up and run to her, but then he remembered—Mom never seemed too happy that Miss Sheila was living with them. If Mom came back, she'd probably send Miss Sheila away, and then Miss Sheila wouldn't be able to take him to the paper crafts competition.
Part of him wanted his mom to leave again.
So he stayed put on the couch, not moving an inch.
Maybe if he acted cold, Mom would decide to leave.
Jessica bent down and gathered the fabric into her arms. She hadn't expected to find Timothy at home. Neither of them spoke to her, and as she was about to head to her room, Timothy stopped her.
"Pack up. We're going back to the manor."
Timothy was planning to return early—his grandfather had asked for her homemade chicken soup. It was already late; she wouldn't have time to make it.
Jessica tucked the fabric under her arm and signed quickly with her hands.
"I'm tired. I don't want to go."
Timothy's expression darkened. He looked down at Henry and said, "Go change your clothes."
Knowing they were going back to the manor, Henry obediently trotted off to his room.
When Timothy turned again, Jessica had already slipped into the bedroom.
He got up, followed, and closed the door behind him.
Jessica was putting the fabric away when Timothy caught her slender wrist and pulled her toward him.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Goodbye, Mr. Regret