Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Sheila froze.

A paternity test? Timothy was doing a paternity test?

But for whom?

Surely not for Henry. Anyone with eyes could see the resemblance-Henry looked so much like Timothy that no test was needed to prove they were father and son.

So who was it for?

Her mind was spinning with questions as she carried a plate of fruit into the living room.

Timothy had just finished his cigarette. He maneuvered his electric wheelchair through the doorway.

"Dad, Mom, have some fruit," he said, rolling up to the dining table.

Sheila glanced at him. He was distracted, eyes glued to his phone, a flicker of excitement playing across his face.

She called out, "Timothy, come have some fruit!”

"I'll pass. I need to head out," he replied, already motioning for the housekeeper to call the driver.

After sharing some fruit with Timothy's parents, Sheila made her own excuse about work and slipped out.

remembered the hospital's name was in the

a wheelchair, would move a little slower, so she figured

tore it open in a

unreadable look crossed Timothy's face as he stared at the results. He

and Vince were

a

never mentioned not being her parents' biological

would've known.

"Timothy."

into

paused, quickly tucking

you doing here?" he

glanced at the papers in his hand. "Is that a paternity test?” He shot back, "Why

here. She wanted to see me," Sheila replied, her eyes darting back to the envelope. In a low voice, she added, "Timothy, there's no need to doubt Henry. Anyone could tell he's your

a test to know my own son? I'm

upset," Sheila said quickly, backing away. "I should go—my friend's waiting for

was, which only deepened Sheila's concern. She headed toward the admin wing,

else would need a paternity test