Year 1995. A private hospital in Makati became witness to a scandal that shook high society.

Don Roberto, a wealthy businessman of Spanish descent, is pacing the hallway of the maternity ward. His wife Isabella has just given birth to their first child. Not just one, but quintuplets (five babies).

Roberto should have been happy. But when he saw the babies in the nursery, he flushed with anger and disgust.

The five babies have dark skin, curly hair, and pointed noses that do not seem to be characteristic of Filipinos or Spaniards.

“Who is the father of those?!” Roberto shouted as he pointed at Isabella who was still lying on the bed, weak. “You fooled me! You have an affair with someone else! Maybe it’s an American soldier or a tourist! Those are not mine! Look at my skin, white! Look at you, brown! How can we have children like that, black?!”

“Roberto, believe me,” Isabella cried. “I only love you. I have no other man. Those are yours!”

“Liar!” Roberto shouted. He took off his wedding ring and threw it in Isabella’s face. “I’m leaving. I will never recognize those bastards. You and your black children go together! From now on, you don’t have a husband!”

Roberto left that night. He withdrew all support from Isabella. He kicked her out of their mansion and left her on the street with five crying babies.

Isabella’s life was very difficult.

She returned to the province, to a small village in Zambales. Because of the appearance of her children—Michael, Gabriel, Rafael, Uriel, and Samuel—they became the center of temptation for the entire village.

“There are the children of the tikbalang!”

“There are the negroes!”

The children often came home from school crying.

“Mom, why are we like this? Why did Dad leave us?” asked Michael, the eldest.

Isabella hugged them. Her hands were rough from washing clothes and planting sweet potatoes just to feed them.

“Son,” Isabella said with emphasis. “Don’t be ashamed of your color. It’s gold. You are special. And one day, your Dad will eat what he said. Study hard. Show the world that the color of your skin is not a measure of character.”

The siblings worked hard. Because they had no money, they helped each other. When Michael was studying, Gabriel worked in construction. When Rafael had exams, Uriel sold balut. They took turns in hardship and happiness.

Because of their intelligence and determination, they all got scholarships to study abroad. Universities in America and Europe hired them because of their excellence in Science and Medicine.

30 years passed.

The year is 2025.

Don Roberto is a rambling old man. He is still rich, but sad. He has no other children because he discovered that his second wife was infertile. And now, he has a big problem.

He has a Rare Blood Disease. His liver and kidneys are giving out.

“Don Roberto,” said his doctor at St. Luke’s. “You need a combined liver and kidney transplant as soon as possible. But your case is very complicated. You have a rare genetic marker. It’s hard to find a donor. And you need a specialist who can do this surgery.”

“Pay me no matter how much!” Roberto shouted. “I don’t want to die!”

“There’s a team of doctors from Johns Hopkins in America who are here right now on a medical mission,” the doctor said. “They’re ‘The Quintet’. They’re the best in the world when it comes to genetic diseases and transplants. We’ll try to reach them.”

The surgery was scheduled. “The Quintet” agreed to look at Roberto’s case because it was a rare case that fell within their expertise.

On the day of the consultation, Roberto entered the conference room. Five doctors were sitting in front of him.

They were all tall, handsome, and had dark skin.

Roberto was stunned. It felt like something was aching in the back of his brain. Their faces were familiar.

“Good morning, Don Roberto,” greeted the head surgeon, Dr. Michael. “I am Dr. Michael, and these are my brothers—Dr. Gabriel (Anesthesiologist), Dr. Rafael (Cardiologist), Dr. Uriel (Nephrologist), and Dr. Samuel (Hepatologist).”

“Are you brothers?” Roberto asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Michael replied. “We are quintuplets.”

Roberto turned pale. Quintuplets? Dark-skinned?

“W-where are you from?” Roberto asked tremblingly.

“We were born here in the Philippines, but we grew up in poverty before we became scholars in America,” Gabriel replied with emphasis. “Our father left us in 1995 because of the color of our skin. He said he would hate us.”

The folder Roberto was holding fell.

“Y-you…”

The door to the conference room opened. An elderly woman in a wheelchair but elegantly dressed entered. It was Isabella.

“Isabella?” Roberto whispered.

“Hello, Roberto,” Isabella greeted calmly. “It’s been a long time since we last saw each other.”

Roberto knelt in front of Isabella and the five doctors.

“Forgive me! I made a mistake! I thought… I thought you were illegitimate! Because you’re black! Black is not in our race!”

The siblings looked at each other. Dr. Samuel, the genetics specialist, took out a tablet.

“Actually, Mr. Roberto,” Samuel said. “As part of the pre-op procedure, we tested your DNA and our DNA.”

He showed the results on the screen.

PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 99.99%

“You are our father,” Samuel said. “And about our color? I studied your family tree. Your great-grandfather was an African missionary who landed in Spain in the 1800s. He had a son with a Spaniard, but your family hid that fact because of the discrimination at the time. Your grandfather was ‘white-passing’, but the genes are in your blood.”

Roberto’s eyes widened.

“That means…”

“That means,” Samuel continued. “We are a case of Genetic Atavism or the appearance of an ancestral trait after several generations. You carried those genes, Roberto. Not Mom. You are the reason we are like this, but you are also the one who punished us for our own blood.”

Roberto burst into tears. His pride, his racism, his arrogance—all of it came back to him like a big slap. He left his

family because of something that came from him himself.

“Forgive me… save me… I will get back…” Roberto cried. “You are my only hope.”

The siblings looked at Isabella.

“What are we going to do, Mom?” Michael asked. “He is the one who killed your heart before. Are we going to let his heart die now?”

Isabella held her daughter’s hand. “I raised you doctors to save lives, not to judge. Do your job. Save him. Not for him, but to prove that you are a better person than him.”

The operation was performed. It was successful. The five children saved the father who had abandoned them.

When Roberto woke up, he looked for his family. He wanted to give away all his wealth. He wanted to start over.

But when the nurse entered, she only handed him a letter.

Roberto,

You are safe. The liver and kidneys in your body now come from donors found by your children. They gave you a second life.

But that doesn’t mean we’re going back to you. We don’t need your wealth. We have our own name that we built despite your oppression. Our debt to the life you gave us has been paid.

Don’t look for us anymore. Live in peace with your conscience.

Isabella and the Quintuplets

Roberto was left in his expensive hospital room, alive and strong, but alone. He would regret for the rest of his life that the five “black” babies he threw away were the most shining gold that would never be his again.