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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37

33

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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r 33

so many lives. He's

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 such a

her as we

thoughts lingered on

was something about

something

I shook

Vesta led me through more hallways,

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33

and programs

walked, I couldn't help but think about everything I had seen today-the children in the kindergarten,

why Vesta had dedicated herself to this place. It

bigger

us.

us.

a heaviness to

the air, especially around Carlos. I wondered

toward the hallway, the distant sound of footsteps echoed again, and I couldn't shake

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But Our Son's

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33

might change more than just the lives of others-it might change mine,

uncertainty.

place, with

challenges, held the

even know

was searching

finally rebuild what I had lost and

needed to

piece by piece.

I stood in the

haunted

indifferent expression was etched deeply in

contrast to the warmth

and the vibrancy

face was pale, almost

had drained the

sharp, rigid

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Knees, His Pleas, But

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