A year had passed.
Damon was squatting in front of a toddler who was glaring at him with surprising aggression for someone so small.
He scratched his chin and smiled awkwardly.
"I know you are angry, but think about this. You have had too much sugar. It is not good for you."
The baby did not care about his opinion on her diet. All she cared about was the fact that he was not allowing her to do as she pleased.
She was only a year and a few months old, but she was already fierce and stubborn. She did not listen to Damon very often.
Why would she? He was a pushover who did everything she wanted. All she had to do was cry.
Just as her face began to crumple into the shape of an incoming tantrum, a white haired young woman walked in with a tired sigh.
"What are you doing, brother? You are letting her get away with it. This is the part where you are supposed to show her you are the adult."
