Doña Isabel gasped, tears streaming down her face. “My God… it’s you. You are my daughter.”
The Secret of the Past
Isabel sat Ana down and told her the truth. Twenty-five years ago, she was a poor girl in Iztapalapa married to Roberto Morales. He was a jealous, violent alcoholic. One night, he kicked her out of the house with nothing but the clothes on her back. She was five months pregnant with Ana, but he didn’t believe the child was his. He threatened to call the police if she ever tried to come back for her daughter.
“I fled to Guadalajara, where I gave birth to you alone,” Isabel explained. “I eventually went to the U.S., worked like crazy, and built my business. I came back to Mexico ten years ago and searched everywhere, but your father had moved. I had the gold chain made when you were born to protect you. The silver one was mine from when I was young—I left it with you that last night.”
Ana sobbed. “My dad always told me you abandoned us… that you were a bad woman.”
“I never abandoned you, mija. Every day I thought of you. When I hired you three years ago, something about your face felt familiar, but I never imagined… you were the image of me at your age.”