His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

Chapter 33

We walked further, the sound of the children's laughter fading behind us. After a few moments, we entered a quieter, more clinical part of the building. The vibrant energy of the kindergarten gave way to the sterile formality of a research

environment.

presence

We stopped in front of a large set of glass doors. Through them, I saw a conference room. Inside, older scientists sat around a long table, heads bent over papers and screens. But what caught my eye wasn't them-it was the young man sitting at the head of the table, his commanding the room despite his youth.

He wore a sharp suit, his dark hair neatly combed, but his face was serious and cold, almost detached. His eyes were fixed on

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the documents in front of him, barely

acknowledging the conversation

happening around him. There was something about him-something distant, authoritative, and... unreachable.

"That's Dr. Carlos," Vesta whispered beside me, her voice barely audible. "He's the

head of this organization. Brilliant researcher, M.D., but... not

exactly the

warmest person you'll meet."

I watched him for a moment,

I

fascinated by

how the older scientists seemed to defer to him, despite the age gap. There was an air

of quiet authority around him, one that

didn't need to be spoken to be understood.

"He's... young," I said, my voice low, not

wanting to interrupt the scene unfolding behind the glass. Vesta nodded. "He is. But he's responsible

for everything you've seen today-the

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volunteer program, the research that's saved so

watching Carlos, noticing how he barely looked up from his documents, how his posture remained rigid and focused. It was as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and he bore it with an almost inhuman detachment. There was something i intriguing about him, something I couldn't quite place. His -coldness, his distance-it made me curious. What kind of man carried

her as we left

my thoughts lingered on

something about

something I couldn't

I shook it off and

present. Vesta led me through more hallways, explaining the

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programs within the

I couldn't help but think about everything I had seen today-the children in the kindergarten, the life this organization had breathed into families who had no hope. It was remarkable,

dedicated herself

bigger than any

us.

us.

was a heaviness to it

its challenges, its costs. The weight of responsibility hung in the air, especially around Carlos. I wondered what it would be like to be a part of this, to

hallway, the distant sound of footsteps echoed again,

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others-it might change

uncertainty.

place, with all its

held the

even know

searching for.

could finally rebuild what I had lost

needed to move

piece by piece.

stood in the

haunted

my thoughts. His cold, indifferent

to the warmth

Vesta and the vibrancy of

was pale, almost ascetic,

drained the color

leaving behind sharp, rigid lines.

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His Pleas, But Our Son's