Chapter Eighty

An awkward silence befell Saraid and Damon as they sat and discussed the peculiar predicament, they found themselves in. Treasa returned in no time and sat on the floor between them with her arms full of her favorite toys.

“Where’s Daddy? I have his favorite dollies so he can play too,” she asked Saraid, her innocent face scrunched up in a sign of confusion.

Saraid fought back the tears threatening to fall all over again as she brushed her sweet angels bangs from her face, “Daddy is out helping the Guardians with some important training so it’s just you, me, and Grandpa this time.”

Treasa’s smile failed and was replaced with a frown of disappointment, but only for a second. She looked into Saraid’s eyes and asked, “Daddy’s sick, isn’t he?”

“What makes you ask that,” Damon interjects.

“Because Daddy is not Daddy. When Daddy is Daddy, he always plays with me,” she lifts her chin and challenges Damon to say otherwise.

Saraid grabs Treasa under her arms and lifts her, so she sits on her l