My Dad, the Demon King, Is a Big Problem

Chapter 117

I clenched my eyes shut, swallowing my rage.

Just the sight of Cyrillote staring at me—at the baby version of me—made me want to smack him upside the head.

But what could I do? This was the past, something already set in stone.

After forcing down my irritation, I opened my eyes again.

Cyrillote was still plastered against the window, utterly fascinated, unable to tear his gaze away from the infant in the room. His pitch-black eyes, usually befitting a demon, shone with an almost childlike curiosity.@@@@

I watched, dumbfounded.

Wait, I wasn’t telling her to leave! Why did she go?!

With her gone, an unsettling thought crept in.

Now it was just baby me and Cyrillote. Alone.

Predictably, Cyrillote pressed even closer to the window, as if he was about to sink right through the glass.

Meanwhile, my father was still out there, searching for my mother.

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