The morning air was crisp and peaceful as Maya's car slowly rolled into the driveway of a quiet private nursery on the outskirts of London.
Surrounded by towering trees and enclosed by a white picket fence, the nursery looked like a world untouched by the chaos beyond its gates. A small playground, dotted with colourful slides, swings, and toy cars, stood empty in the early morning light.
It was serene.
Far away from the relentless media, the burden of the Thoreau name, and the storm that had consumed Maya's life in recent weeks.
The driver stepped out and opened the rear door.
Maya carefully lifted Layrus from his baby seat.
The little boy settled comfortably in her arms, his tiny fingers curling around the collar of her coat while his bright, curious eyes wandered over the unfamili
