Isabella Weaver sat in the car, not speaking a word all the way.
She held a kraft paper bag in her arms, her body trembling slightly.
Harry Hunter pulled the car over to the side of the road, hugged her, and asked with some concern, "What's wrong? Did something bad happen?"
Isabella leaned on his warm, solid chest. Her inner vulnerability no longer needed to be concealed, and her tears overflowed, wetting Harry's suit.
"I'm afraid I guessed wrong, and I'm afraid I guessed right."
What she said was very cryptic, but Harry understood what her guess was about.
She had been staying at the hospital for the past few days. Others might think she was doing it to gain the so-called inheritance and acquire the jewelry company, but Harry knew that Isabella wasn't doing it for that.
"Do you want me to help you?"
"Yes!"
Isabella tightly hugged Harry's waist: "Help me find someone reliable to do a paternity test!"
"Okay."
