Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Before Timothy had even finished speaking with the family doctor for the Lawsons, his phone buzzed again—this time it was Naylor Lawson, sounding frantic.

"Timothy, you need to get to the hospital, quick! Your grandfather just collapsed!"

Timothy's response was curt. "If he's collapsed, call the doctor. What do you want me to do? I'm not a doctor-I can't treat him."

Without waiting for an answer, he hung up.

On the other end, Naylor glared at the phone in frustration. "That ungrateful brat! Even when his grandfather falls ill, he won't come home!"

Realizing his ruse wasn't working, Phelps opened his eyes and snapped, "You two, think of something! I want Timothy back here now!"

Naylor blinked, confused. "Dad, you're not even unconscious?"

Phelps shot him a glare. "What, disappointed I'm still breathing?"

Muttering under his breath, Naylor said, "No wonder Timothy won't come back- he probably guessed you were faking it."

Phelps looked thoroughly disgruntled. Having a clever, hard-headed grandson- he wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

Then, a new idea struck Phelps. "Naylor, listen-go to the cemetery and damage Timothy's mother's headstone. Then call him."

Naylor's face went pale. "Dad, are you out of your mind? You want me to vandalize Hannah's grave? What if her spirit comes after me at night?"noveldrama

In their family, ancestry and the blessings of the departed mattered; you didn't mess around with the dead. Some things, it was best not to tempt fate.

Phelps pressed, "Tell me, are you more afraid of Hannah's ghost coming for you at night, or of Timothy ending up in jail?"

Naylor raised an eyebrow. "Timothy's in trouble with the law? No way. I don't buy

it."

Phelps nearly exploded. "Are you trying to give me a stroke? Why else would ask you to touch Hannah's grave? Or do you think by faking an illness yourself, you'll get your son to come home?"

Naylor shook his head. If even his father's stunt didn't work, there was no way his would.

"There you have it," Phelps said, his tone brooking no argument. "Short of something happening to his mother, you tell me what else could possibly get Timothy back here right now? If you can't think of anything better, then talk it over with Timothy before you do anything."

Naylor was at his wits' end. He at his couldn't think of another way to get Timothy back immediately, and hez didn't dare ask anyone else to don such thing. Resigned, he gathered a few offerings and went to the cemetery himself. Setting them by Hannah's headstone, he fit a candle and whispered a prayer, explaining to Hannah Howard that his son was in trouble, that he hoped she'd understand he meant no disrespect, and begged her not to blame him-he was only thinking of Timothy.

Meanwhile, Timothy hadn't turned off his phone since he'd powered it on, expecting the family doctor to arrive soon-he'd need to go down and meet him.

Just as he greeted the doctor at the door, his phone rang again. This time it was Vince. Timothy ignored the call.

Vince had dispatched half his staff to scour Riverside City, desperate for news, but even after a sleepless night, there was still no sign of Timothy.

Timothy had arranged for a gentle female doctor, someone with a background in psychology. He led her upstairs, where Jessica lay on the bed with her eyes closed.

Timothy gently touched her shoulder and spoke softly, “Jessy, I brought the doctor. Let her take a look at you, okay?"

At that moment, Timothy's phone rang again—it was Naylor.

He frowned and answered.

"Timothy, something's happened. I have no idea how, but your mother's headstone is suddenly broken-split clean in two. You need to come and see for yourself."