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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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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program, the research that's saved so many lives. He's dedicated his life

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.

as we left

thoughts lingered on

something about him

something I couldn't

I shook it

me

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33

and programs within the

about everything I had seen today-the children in the kindergarten, the life

Vesta had dedicated herself

something bigger than

us.

us.

a heaviness to it

hung in the air, especially around Carlos.

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

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33

others-it might change mine, too. A sense of anticipation stirred in my chest, mingling

uncertainty.

place, with

challenges, held the answers

even know

was searching

finally rebuild what I had lost and find the healing,

to move

piece by piece.

stood in

haunted

thoughts. His cold, indifferent expression was

to the warmth

with Vesta and the vibrancy of

pale, almost ascetic,

had drained

sharp, rigid

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But Our Son's in

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