The evening descended on Casa de los Niños like a warm, comforting blanket.
The children had finished their dinner and were now engaged in various activities some playing on the new football pitch under the lights, others reading in the library, a few working on art projects in the studio. The orphanage, which had once felt like a place of quiet desperation, now hummed with life, with energy, with hope.
Mateo, Isabella, Don Carlos, and Sister Maria Elena sat in Don Carlos's office, the door slightly ajar so they could hear the sounds of the children's laughter drifting in from outside. The conversation had turned more serious, more reflective. They were talking about legacy, about responsibility, about the future.
"I need to tell you something," Don Carlos said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "Something I should have said months ago."
Mateo looked at him, his expression curious.
