In the heart of a nation gripped by uncertainty, a harrowing scene unfolds—a sea of faces etched with despair, united in a single, torturous wait. Among them stands Cecilia, her eyes brimming with the weight of a grandmother's plea. "Mr. President, it's not my fault to be here waiting for my grandson," she pleads, her voice a whisper against the呐喊 of the crowd. "Release my grandson well and alive, because he's the only one I have."