Goodbye to You All
Conway, too, felt his throat tighten, his reddened eyes brimming with emotion as tears slipped down his wrinkled face.
Mrs. Conway crouched by the hospital bed, taking Jessica's hand in hers. "We know now, Jessica. We know everything. We really messed up… I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me, will you?"
Mr. Conway, standing beside her, quickly echoed, "I was wrong too. Can't you find it in your heart to forgive us? We flew ten hours just to see you—doesn't that count for something?"
There it was. That subtle, inescapable pressure—the kind that gnawed at the edges of morality and obligation.