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.

text message—she remembered the hospital's

her way to the genetics center. Timothy, being in a wheelchair, would move a little slower, so she figured she wouldn't be far behind.

open in a hurry, his

look crossed Timothy's face as he stared at the

Vince were

were only a year

never mentioned not being

surely she would've known. It was

"Timothy."

stepped into the

tucking the report

here?" he asked, his tone

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

classmates works in admin 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 son.

"You think I'd seriously need a test to know my own son?

mistake, I'm sorry, don't be upset," Sheila said quickly, backing away. "I should go—my

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

else would need a paternity test