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

18:50

His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

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

18:50

Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's

37- 31-

r 33

volunteer program, the research that's saved so

Carlos, noticing how he barely looked up from his documents, how 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 almost inhuman

her as we left the

but my thoughts

was something about

something

I shook it

me through more hallways, explaining

18:50

Pleas, But

3

33

programs within the

about everything I had seen today-the children in the kindergarten, the life this organization had breathed into families who had no hope. It was remarkable,

see why Vesta had dedicated herself to this

bigger than any

us.

us.

there was a heaviness to it

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

the hallway, the distant sound of

18:50

Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's

3

33

might change mine, too.

uncertainty.

place, with all

the

even know

was searching for.

I could finally rebuild what I had lost and find the healing, peace, and strength

to

piece by piece.

I stood in

haunted

cold, indifferent

to

and the

face was pale, almost ascetic,

life had drained the

behind sharp, rigid lines.

18:50

His Pleas, But Our