« Isabel…? » Roberto whispered.
—Hello, Roberto —she said calmly—. It’s been a long time.
Roberto fell to his knees.
« Forgive me! I was wrong!
I thought they weren’t mine… just because they were dark.
I thought that couldn’t exist in my blood! »
Samuel, the geneticist, turned on a tablet.
—Actually, Mr. Roberto —he said—,
we perform DNA tests as part of the protocol.
The result appeared on the screen:
PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 99.99%
“You are our father,” Samuel continued. “
And about our skin color…
we investigated your family tree.
Your great-great-grandfather was an African missionary who arrived in Spain in the 19th century.
The family hid that truth because of racism.
The genes remained dormant… until us.”
Roberto’s eyes filled with horror.
—That means…
« It means, » Samuel said, »
that it’s genetic atavism.
You gave us those genes…
and then punished us for them. »
Roberto cried like a child.
—Please… save me… I’ll do anything…
The five children looked at their mother.
« What should we do, Mom? » Miguel asked. »
He broke your heart. »
Isabel took her son’s hand.
« I raised you to save lives, not to judge, » he said.
« Do it. Not for him…
but to prove that you are better. »
The operation was a success.
The five sons saved the father who had rejected them.
Upon waking, Roberto asked to see them.
He wanted to leave them his entire fortune.
But the nurse only gave him a letter.
Roberto:
He’s alive.
He’s had a second chance thanks to the donors we found.
But that doesn’t mean we’re going back into his life.
We don’t need your money.
We built our reputation without you.
The debt has been paid.
Don’t look for us.
Isabel and the quintuplets
Roberto remained alone in his luxurious hospital room.
Alive… but empty.
And too late she realized that the five “dark-skinned” babies she had cast aside
were the most precious treasure she would ever have again.
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