3rd person pov
Nyara walked into the youth center art class, Iyla's small hand tucked securely in hers. The room buzzed with the excited chatter of her students, their eyes widening as they spotted the new arrival. Iyla, clutching her tan teddy bear, peeked out from behind Nyara's legs, her little backpack swinging gently.
"Hello, everyone," Nyara said, her voice warm and welcoming. "This is my daughter, Iyla."
A chorus of "awws" and "hellos" filled the room. Iyla, her cheeks flushed, whispered a shy "hello" before retreating behind her mother's legs once more.
Nyara settled Iyla at a small desk near the back of the room, providing her with crayons and paper. As she began her lesson, demonstrating basic drawing techniques, she kept a watchful eye on Iyla. The little girl, her brow furrowed in concentration, mimicked her mother's movements, her small hand gripping the crayon tightly. Nyara smiled, a sense of quiet pride swelling within her.
Throughout the class, Iyla remained absorbed in her artwork, occasionally glancing up at her mother with wide, curious eyes. Other students were asking Nyara questions about shading and perspective, she answered them while making sure that Iyla was doing fine.
As the class drew to a close, Nyara began packing up her supplies. She walked over to Iyla's desk, finding her daughter half-asleep in her chair, a scattering of colorful drawings spread before her. Nyara's breath caught in her throat. Iyla had perfectly replicated the drawing techniques she had demonstrated, her small hand creating surprisingly detailed images. "Amazing," Nyara whispered, carefully gathering Iyla's artwork and tucking it into her backpack.
She gently lifted Iyla, cradling her sleeping form against her shoulder, and grabbed the teddy bear. With her purse and Iyla's backpack slung over her shoulder, she made her way out of the classroom.
"Oh my god, I didn't know you had a kid!" one of the other teachers exclaimed.
"I didn't know the Alister family had a grandchild already," another added.
Nyara offered a polite smile. "I wanted to keep her out of the media and other things."
The teachers nodded in understanding. "So, who's the lucky man?" an older teacher asked.
"I'd prefer to keep that private," Nyara replied, her voice firm but gentle.
A younger teacher stepped forward, smiling. "Guys, stop blocking her way. You can see her hands are full, and her daughter is sleeping."
"Sorry," the other teachers murmured.
"Bye," Nyara said, making her way to the parking lot. She carefully placed Iyla in her car seat, tucking the teddy bear into her lap and draping a soft blanket over her. As she settled into the driver's seat, she decided to stop for a quick meal.
As she drove, her phone rang. It was Zaila, her older sister. Before answering, Nyara glanced in the rearview mirror, ensuring Iyla was still asleep. She answered, "Hello?"
"Nyara, how have you been lately? Mom said she last talked to you three days ago. Are the nightmares getting worse? Are you getting any sleep?" Zaila asked, her voice filled with concern.
"I told Mom I was fine. The nightmares aren't that bad anymore. In fact, I'm getting good sleep. I'm just a little busy at the moment, Zaila, that's all," Nyara replied, her voice tight.
"Nyara, you know I know you better than anyone. You sound stressed and nervous."
Nyara was about to respond when Iyla stirred, letting out a soft whine. Panic flared in Nyara's chest. "I'll talk to you later, bye," she said, quickly hanging up. She sighed, her heart pounding, relieved that she had avoided revealing Iyla.
Meanwhile, in Central City, Kail Moreau decided to relocate to S City two months earlier than planned. He needed a break from the constant scrutiny, the whispers that followed him like a shadow. "The Moreau youngest son who can't feel emotion," or "the cold-hearted Moreau son," or even, "the Reaper." He bought a secluded mansion in S City, seeking a sanctuary from the relentless attention. He wanted to feel like no one knew who he was.