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The doctor left the envelope open on the table and arranged the letters with a leptitude that made the silence unbearable.
Ricardo’s hands were crossed with the force that had turned white. Maria couldn’t stop moving her leg.
Ximepa kept her gaze fixed on the floor as if she could prepare herself for any blow. Valeria clutched her purse to her stomach, pale.
—The first piece of news—said the doctor— is that the initial blood test results show compatibility of paternity between you and one of the three pregnancies.
The phrase landed like a ton of bricks.
Maria was the first to react.
—¿Qυé?
Ximeña suddenly raised her head.
—That’s not possible.
Valeria blinked several times, confused, and then turned her eyes to Ricardo. There was no accusation yet. Only bewilderment.
Ricardo felt like he couldn’t breathe.
—Doctor… I was with them —he murmured—. With all three of them.
It wasn’t a proud confession. It was an exhausted, almost humiliating admission.
The doctor nodded.
—That’s why I said that was just the first piece of news.
Nobody moved.
Outside, in the garden, a sprinkler began to lap water over the grass with absurd, almost offensive regularity.
—The results were in a normal scenario —the doctor stated—. So, before delivering any conclusion, I asked for an additional review.
We repeat the analyses, expand genetic markers and request a second sample, either only of blood, or also of buccal tissue and cryopreserved semen.
Ricardo frowned.
—¿Semeп… qυé?
The doctor looked at him seriously.
—You didn’t remember him because he wasn’t part of this investigation at the beginning.
But his medical record from nine years ago, when he was treated in Houston for the prostate tumor, indicates that before the surgical procedure a sample was kept as a matter of protocol, at the request of his wife.
The name of his wife, although it was proposed, entered the room as a presence.
Ricardo was left speechless.