Tilda looked at him tenderly, kissed his soft cheek, and then tiptoed out of the room.

“Tilda, have some water.”

Elma offered her a glass of water, her eyes filled with something she seemed eager to say.

Taking a sip, Tilda inquired, “Elma, is there something you want to tell me?”

Elma replied, “That man we saw today, he looks a lot like Sheldon.”

Tilda gripped her cup tighter, her gaze dropping as she responded, “Sheldon doesn’t have a father.”

Elma opened her mouth, as if a realization had struck her.

Sheldon’s real father grew

mix of excitement

because she might have discovered

confused, since the man appeared oblivious

How could that be?

of wedlock four years earlier, Elma sighed

home by

passed away, Elma cared for

would one day have a child out

Tilda didn’t return until after midnight. Maybe

but Tilda

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