commander

aunt cecelia

Torra

"Alright. Wait, what?" I corrected myself immediately. She wasn't okay and it was probably my fault.

"It's not your fault. It's mine." Nala whispered, staring into the baby's eyes.

"Nala . . ." I think I know what she is thinking. She miscarried. She is holding an infant. She is disappointed in herself.

"Don't say it Torra." Nala barely whispered. "I know you wanted it. I saw the way you looked at me." Nala was right about one thing; I did want a child. But she didn't understand.

"I'm not disappointed in you. I'm not torn that you lost a child. You are due to fight soon and you being pregnant would not be very easy for me to stomach. Besides," I said as I pulled her hip into me. "We have plenty of opportunities for us when we are both ready." I joked, still consoling Nala. She needed it more than anything.

"You make me better." She leaned on my shoulder and readjusted her grip on the baby.

"Nala?" I said and looked down at John, who had latched his mouth onto Nala's chest.

"I think he's hungry." Nala quietly retorted as she gently squeezed and pulled John's head off of her. He whined before crying quietly, so adorably rejected. "I'm going to go back to the compound." Nala whispered. "No one knows I'm here." Nala gently handed John to me, but I left my arms down and did not receive him as she expected. "Torra. I'm leaving. Take the baby." Nala tried to shove him on me.

"No. You are going to come inside and eat a real meal like I normal person. I can go later and tell someone where you are." I grabbed her opposite hip and pulled her around, pushing her through the threshold. She covered her chest with the baby, still keeping his head away from her. He had the right idea, though.

Inside, everyone at the table turned to look at Nala. They must have noticed her covering her chest. "Are you cold? I'll grab you a jacket." I said and rushed into my room, grabbing a bomber jacket while Nala put John to bed in Rimona's room.

Nala sat at the head of the table, opposite from my mother. It seemed fitting. Everyone at with light chatter, until Aunt Cece spoke up. "So, Nala, that name is forbidden. Where does it come from?" Aunt Cece spoke harshly.

"My mother?" Nala answered obviously.

"How does your family stand financially?" Aunt Cece was a mean interrogator.

"We all have government jobs. We do very well for ourselves." Nala said without giving her title away. Apparently Aunt Cece was oblivious enough to not know who Nala was.

"Do you own land?" Aunt Cece couldn't get enough.

"Yes."

"How much?"

"A few thousand acres." Nala shrugged as she picked through collard greens.

"Do you own any workers?" Aunt Cece asked jovially.

Nala dropped her fork on her plate. "I will not
condone the buying or selling of any humans." Nala spit harshly at Aunt Cece. She was intimidating, yet Aunt Cece laughed.

"I take that as a 'no'." Aunt Cece chuckled into the back of her hand.

"Are you sure?" Nala propped her chin on her hand. I practically spit out my water.

Dinner is finished in silence. Aunt Cece is the first to excuse herself, after poking through her food but never taking a bite. She never was one for genuine cooking. Nala was the next to leave, claiming she was tired from her day. I know she was tired from us, from running miles, and from her own brain.