Alister Family pov
The Alister family gathered in the grand living room, a palpable tension hanging in the air, thick and heavy like a summer storm. The ornate furniture and plush carpets, usually symbols of comfort and opulence, did little to soften the worried expressions etched on their faces. The air crackled with unspoken anxieties, each member grappling with their own fears for Nyara.
Naomi Alister, her brow furrowed with deep concern, rubbing her hands, the delicate lace of her dress bunching between her fingers. "I spoke to her three days ago, and she sounded so… distant. Like she was on the other side of the world. I knew letting her move out was a mistake. Her sleep illness was nowhere near better. It was just a wishful thought that she could manage on her own."
Isaiah Alister, his voice firm but laced with a father's worry, leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly before him. "She won't even tell us where she lives. Five years, and we still don't know. It's unacceptable. I want her to move back home. I know how bad her health can be, and the longer she's alone, the worse it gets." He ran a hand through his grey hair, a gesture of frustration and deep-seated anxiety, the lines on his forehead deepening.
Amir Alister, his eyes troubled, a flicker of understanding mixed with apprehension, spoke up. "I think she might be having an episode. You know how she distances herself when the nightmares get bad. She shuts us out, builds a wall around herself. It's a pattern." He paused, his gaze drifting towards the ornate fireplace, where flames danced with a restless energy. "She's always been sensitive, even as a child. Those nightmares… they take a toll. They're not just bad dreams; they're something else entirely."
Zaila Alister, her expression a mix of frustration and helplessness, sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "She's going through something, I can feel it. But she won't tell me what. I tried to press her on the phone, but she just… shuts down, like a clam closing its shell. She sounded so nervous, so guarded, like she was carrying a heavy secret. And when that child is hiding something, it never ends well."
Naomi's voice trembled slightly, a mother's intuition screaming in her ear. "I knew it. I just knew. Letting her go was a terrible idea. She was too young to be on her own, especially with her condition. She needs us, and we failed her." She looked at the others, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We should have insisted she stay. We should have known better."
Isaiah nodded, his gaze hardening with a resolve that brooked no argument. "We've given her too much space. We need to intervene. She's our daughter, and we won't stand by while she suffers, not any longer." He stood up, his movements decisive, his posture radiating authority. "I'm going to find her. We'll bring her home, where she belongs, where she'll be safe."
Amir rubbed his temple, his thoughts swirling with a mix of concern and doubt. "But what if she doesn't want to come back? We can't force her. She's an adult."
"We're not forcing her," Isaiah said, his voice firm, his eyes unwavering. "We're protecting her. She needs us, whether she realizes it or not. And we will be there for her, no matter what it takes."
Zaila stood up as well, her chin lifted, her eyes filled with a fierce determination. "I'm going with you, father. If she won't talk to you, maybe she'll talk to me. We need to understand what's happening, and we need to help her."
Naomi nodded, her eyes filled with a mother's worry and a desperate hope. "Just bring her home safely. That's all I ask." She picked up a framed photo of a younger Nyara, her eyes filled with a melancholy sadness. "She was always such a bright child, so full of life, so vibrant. I just want her to be happy, to be safe."
Isaiah looked at his wife, then his children, his gaze conveying a silent promise. "We'll find her, and we'll bring her home. Together." He knew Nyara was stubborn, fiercely independent, but he was more stubborn. He would get to the bottom of this, even if it meant tearing down every wall she had built.