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King and I were studying for our college exams in his small apartment that he moved into after high school. At that time, he shot himself in the foot by firing the thousandth sitter because he didn’t trust them around her—not that he trusted anyone. As a result, he had to study, feed her, change her, and play with her. Needless to say, I was dragged into it and had to indulge her so she’d stop fidgeting and being generally irritable. Not only was she especially demanding but she also refused to nap and give us a break. “Stop whining and go to bed, Gwyneth,” I scolded when she kept hanging onto King’s leg. Her chin trembled and she started crying so hard as if the world was ending. King gave me a dirty look, kicked me in the chin, then held his little princess and started comforting her. She wouldn’t stop fucking crying, though. Because she needed to sleep but refused to. Whenever I glared at her, she hid her face in her father’s neck and clung to him as if he were a shield. In search o