Mateo stood at the edge of the pitch, his eyes wide, his breath caught in his throat. He could see children playing, their laughter echoing across the field, their movements full of joy and freedom. He could see a young boy dribbling the ball with surprising skill, his face full of concentration. He could see a girl taking a shot on goal, her form perfect, her determination fierce.
This was the crown jewel. This was the heart of the transformation. This was a promise that every child at Casa de los Niños, no matter their background, no matter their circumstances, would have the opportunity to play, to dream, to believe that they could be the next Mateo Alvarez.
Don Carlos stood beside him, his hand resting on Mateo's shoulder. "This is your legacy, mijo," he said softly. "This is what you've given them. Not just a pitch, but a dream. Not just a place to play, but a place to believe."
