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 name

a wheelchair, would move a little slower, so she figured she wouldn't be far behind. Sure

open in a

as he stared at the results. He

Vince were

a year apart-how was that

not being her parents' biological

known. It was

"Timothy."

into the

quickly tucking

you doing here?" he asked, his tone

papers in his hand. "Is that a paternity test?” He

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

"You think I'd seriously need a test to

quickly, backing away. "I should go—my

which only deepened Sheila's concern. She headed toward

would need