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.

was Sheldon’s real father grew in her

a mix

might have discovered who Sheldon’s

the man appeared oblivious

How could that be?

pregnant out of wedlock

to Tilda’s home by Tilda’s mother,

cared for Tilda like her own

would one day have a child out of

until after midnight. Maybe it was that

about the baby’s father, but Tilda remained tight-Lipped, simply requesting her

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