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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so many lives. He's dedicated his

the world rested on his shoulders, and he bore it

as

thoughts lingered on

something about

something

I shook it off

Vesta led me through more hallways, explaining

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programs within

had seen today-the children in the kindergarten, the life this organization

had dedicated herself to

bigger than any

us.

us.

there was a heaviness

hung in the air, especially around Carlos. I wondered what it would be like to be a part of

the hallway, the distant sound of footsteps echoed again, and

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Pleas, But

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

uncertainty.

this place, with all

held the answers

even know

was searching for.

lost and find the healing, peace, and strength

to move

piece by piece.

I stood in the courtyard,

haunted

cold, indifferent expression was etched

to the warmth

Vesta and

was pale,

drained the

sharp, rigid lines.

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Knees, His Pleas, But