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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37- 31-

r 33

the volunteer program, the research that's saved so many

the world rested on his shoulders, and he bore it with

her as

thoughts lingered

was something

something I

But I shook it

me through more hallways, explaining the

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33

and programs within

walked, 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

herself to this place. It felt like

bigger

us.

us.

was a heaviness to

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

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

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33

might change mine,

uncertainty.

with all

held the answers I

even know

searching for.

what I had lost and

to

piece by piece.

in

haunted

cold, indifferent expression

to the warmth

with Vesta and the

was pale,

drained the color

sharp, rigid

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His Pleas, But Our Son's in

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