‘That kind of trick… If he’s got his eyes on us, there’s no way he’s giving up that easily. Looks like we won’t be visiting that orphanage again.’
Thankfully, his fake ID says he’s 17. Once he turns 18, the orphanage will have to let him go.
At that point, he won’t need to be adopted, and this whole mess should blow over.
I guess I’d been too tense because once I relaxed, I passed out cold.
In my dreams, I was right back in that past life again.
Tyrell’s twisted grin kept flashing before my eyes.
When I woke up, I was drenched in sweat, and the car had already pulled up to our building.
Alfie hopped out, full of energy, heading upstairs.
That’s when my phone rang—it was the orphanage director.
“Mr. Lyttleton? Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know. Someone’s adopted Tyrell. Since you’ve been supporting him for a while, I thought you should hear it from me.”
I couldn’t care less about Tyrell at this point.
I just muttered something, said I got it, and hung up.
‘Guess he’s found a new target now. Hopefully they won’t end up like I did in my last life. I’ve done all I can.’
Back home, I helped my son wash up and get to bed.