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 many lives. He's dedicated 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

followed her as

my thoughts lingered

something about him

me, something

shook it off and

the present. Vesta led me through more hallways,

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and programs within

I had seen today-the children in the kindergarten, the

had dedicated herself to this

something bigger than

us.

us.

yet, there was a

its challenges, its costs. The weight of responsibility hung in the air, especially around

back toward the hallway, the distant sound of footsteps echoed

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

uncertainty.

place, with all its

held the answers I

even know

searching

I had lost

to move

piece by piece.

in the

haunted

cold, indifferent expression was

contrast to the warmth

Vesta and the vibrancy

pale, almost

had drained the color

behind sharp, rigid lines.

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