Too Late For Regret, Mr. Hayes

t was

in my bed. My throat was sore,

dn' t been

mn

ephrine auto-injector lay nex

. From

ually so elegant, w

e stupid

was

he used to leave me, years a

tucked into my p

l Sarah, thi

t to see y

ant, painful memory now

d me to die the

erhaps, a tiny, buried shard of something el

know. I d

just

shley approached Et

them talking

t's remarkable, isn't it? Think of the medical breakthro

ven benefit us... perhaps a future child o

hild. The though

ntinued, "very discreet, cutting-edge. They coul

silent for

lence. He was

me further.

ater good, Ethan," Ashle

nally said. "I'l

d. A research fac

e certain way to reac

ruelty, would finally