Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 94

The nurse saw Jessica signing and, blinking in sympathy, lamented, "She's so beautiful—what a shame she can't speak."

Henry could read Jessica's sign language. She was telling the nurse that she was his mother. He tensed, terrified she'd use her voice synthesizer and reveal the truth.

Annoyance crept into his voice. "What are you waving your hands around for? No one else understands your sign language."

Jessica pulled out her phone, intent on using her voice ring to speak.

But Henry snatched her phone away before she could, turning to the nurse with a bright, practiced smile. "Ma'am, she's our housekeeper. My dad likes a quiet home, so he hired someone who doesn't talk."

Jessica froze.

Did he just say she was the housekeeper?

She'd seen this plot play out on TV—sons, ashamed of their mothers after making something of themselves, introducing them to others as the help or distant relatives. The mothers never got angry; they'd just cry quietly, terrified of embarrassing their child.

Jessica had always despised those ungrateful sons with a vengeance.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that one day, she'd find herself in their mother's shoes.

Now, she finally understood the agony of those silent tears—the pain was like a knife twisting in her chest.

The nurse gently wrapped gauze around Henry's arm and dabbed his skin with antiseptic.

Despite her heartbreak, Jessica instinctively tried to hug Henry, worried he might be scared of the pain.

But Henry pushed her away, his voice tinged with impatience. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm tough—I'm not scared of needles. You don't have to baby me."

The nurse, seeing how brave he was, smiled approvingly. "You're a brave young man, Henry."

Still, when the nurse inserted the needle, Henry's face tightened and his brows furrowed, but he bit down hard and didn't let a single whimper slip out.

Jessica had been his mother for six years—she knew better than anyone when he was putting on a brave face.