At my husband’s funeral, I caught sight of this strange old lady holding a tiny baby. (3 of 9)

“Hello, I’d like to get a paternity test done,” she told the receptionist at the counter.

“OK, ma’am. Normally, it takes a few days to get the results,” the woman said.

“Can it be done quicker?” Nancy asked. “I’ll pay extra.”

“Well, we do have expedited service. Let me see what I can do. But it will cost you more.”

“I’ll take it,” Nancy replied. She submitted Patrick’s samples and paid for the test.

Sitting in the hallway, she was awaiting the results when the baby started crying. Nancy sniffed the baby’s clothes. Her diaper didn’t need a change.

Nancy guessed she must have been hungry. There was still time before the results came in, so she drove to a supermarket and bought baby formula, bottles, and a few diapers — just in case she needed them.

She returned to the hallway and sat there, feeding the formula to the baby. After what seemed like an eternity, a nurse approached her with the results.

The woman handed her an envelope and walked away.

“This is the truth, and I’ll have to accept it whether I like it or not,” Nancy thought as she opened the results.

Her head seemed to spin when she read the words, “Paternity rate – 99%.”