Because now, no one would compete with Zac. No one would ever stand in Zac’s way again. But now they were telling him—Zac wasn’t his biological son? No. They were just kicking me while I was down, trying to deceive me! They just wanted to make a fool out of me! I won’t fall for their tricks! A paternity test? No way. I trusted Renee. If she left so suddenly, there had to be a reason. John made up his mind and turned to leave. She wouldn’t lie to me. She’s so kind, so pure. How could she possibly deceive me? The crowd, seeing there was no more drama, gradually dispersed. That afternoon, John found himself standing outside the hospital. He had spent the entire morning wandering the streets, caught in an endless cycle of denial and self-persuasion. David and those people must be lying to me. Renee wouldn’t lie to me. She’s too innocent, too kind... Yet somehow, without realizing it, he had ended up at the hospital doors. The moment he looked up and saw the hospital entrance, he turned to leave. But his feet felt like they were stuck to the ground, he couldn’t move. Fine. I’ll do this just to shut them all up. With that thought, he stepped into the hospital. He didn’t even notice how violently his legs were shaking. Not just his legs—his whole body trembled. Deep down, he was afraid. He knew his way around the hospital well. He walked straight to the room Zac had stayed in. The Gray residence had been sold. Now, I have to come to a hospital just to find traces of Zac. Looking at the empty hospital bed, it was as if Zac had never been in his life at all. John took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Inside, a nurse was helping another patient settle into the room. Seeing the patient about to sit on the bed, John didn’t know where the sudden strength came from, but he lunged forward and yanked them away. "Don’t sit there!" The patient was startled by John’s sudden outburst.Luckily, they grabbed onto a nearby table and avoided falling. The room immediately erupted in chaos. "What the heck is wrong with you? Why are you yelling?" "Who let this lunatic in here? This is a hospital!" The patient’s family members crowded around. Some recognized John, some didn’t, but that didn’t stop them from hurling insults at him. John ignored them. He frantically searched the bed for something—anything. Hair. He needed to find hair. His hands trembled as he searched, his movements becoming more and more frantic. The bed had been cleaned. The sheets had been changed. John tore through everything, but he found nothing. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the cabinet. Like a man possessed, he lunged toward it and yanked it open. At the very bottom, tucked into the corner, lay a comb. The same comb John had bought for Zac when he was in the hospital. He had wanted Zac to be neat and clean. He didn’t want external factors to affect Zac’s mood. So, he bought the comb and brushed Zac’s hair for him every day. At the time, he had placed it carelessly in the farthest corner of the cabinet. And there, on the comb, were a few strands of Zac’s hair. John’s hands shook violently. He hesitated—he couldn’t bring himself to pick it up. By now, the patient and their family had left. They had demanded the nurse transfer them to another room, unwilling to stay where John was. The nurse, not wanting any trouble, quickly arranged for a room change. John took several deep breaths. Finally, he forced himself to steady his trembling hands and carefully picked up the comb. John sat on a hospital bench, his eyes vacant. He had already sent Zac’s hair for DNA testing. For days, he did nothing but sit there, waiting for the results.He didn’t even know how much time had passed. Day after day, he just sat there, motionless. Finally, after some rushed processing by the hospital staff, the test results arrived in John’s hands. He stared at the envelope, silent for a long, long time, too afraid to open it. He was terrified. After what felt like an eternity, John finally summoned the courage. With trembling hands, he slowly unfolded the document. The bold words on the page, "No biological relationship," hit him like a punch to the gut. John shot up from the bench, his body jerking upright. He snapped the report shut, his voice hoarse as he muttered to himself, "No... no... impossible. This isn’t real. This isn’t real!"