George's days became filled with endless movement—meetings, charity work, academic pursuits, and the steady expansion of the foundation. Every action, every success, was a tribute to the woman who had sacrificed everything for him. Though life pushed him forward, his heart always carried a place reserved for Mariana—and for Mary, whose spirit he honored without fully understanding how close she still was.
At the Hendersons' home, Mariana's parents followed George's growth from afar with pride, often mentioning to friends how remarkable he had become. It made Mariana's heart ache with a sweet, longing warmth. She wished she could step out of her distant world for even a moment and tell them she was watching too.
Meanwhile, George wasn't alone. His grandparents were his pillars, guiding him with gentle advice and unconditional love. Lucia often baked him his favorite treats, and John, though aging, never missed a chance to visit and offer steady wisdom.
One evening, after a small celebration at the foundation, George sat quietly with them in the living room. They laughed over stories of his childhood, the warmth of family filling the space. George leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling safe.
Somewhere in another world, Mariana stood by a shimmering portal, watching him through the system.
"Soon," she promised silently. "Soon, I'll be there."
The bond between them, invisible but unbreakable, stretched across worlds and dreams—patiently waiting for the right moment.