My stomach sinks. “Just tell me,” I say tightly.

“Once I added that overnight filter . . .” She winces. “Zero candidates on my site.”

I let out a frustrated huff, shifting anxiously as I wring my hands. “There has to be something we missed. Here, let me dig deeper . . .” I reach for my laptop. I blow out a sharp breath, willing myself to remain calm and pragmatic. “Okay, we’ll expand the parameters and reconsider previous candidates . . .”

“I have one prospect,” Lyric announces triumphantly. But her face falls as she scans the screen. “Oh, wait, scratch that. She only does newborns and moves on after six months.” Her shoulders slump in defeat.

Harper stands from the couch, arms crossed. “Did you have any luck?”

“No one checks all the boxes,” I say, shaking my head. “What about Teddy? Has she found someone yet?”

Lyric checks her phone and shakes her head, dark hair swishing. “I texted Teddy for an update. She said it’d take some time—she needs a couple days to compile the best candidates.”

I blow out a frustrated breath, glancing at my watch as the alarm sounds. It’s time to pick up Myra. I stand abruptly, grabbing my purse and keys. “Keep me posted if you find any promising options. But I’ve gotta run to get the little one now.” I open my drawer to grab some cash from my jar. “After, I’m heading to the ice cream parlor and then I’ll feed her lunch.”

Harper cocks an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Shouldn’t you start with lunch, then dessert?”

“Oh, shush, you,” I say with a dramatic wave of my hand. “After the stressful day Myra and I’ve had, we deserve a little pick-me-up in the form of a magical cloud of happiness, scooped up from unicorn dreams andthe land of rainbow wishes, served in a cone of chocolate and joy.”

Lyric grins, “Nothing better fora rough day like a heaping cone of unicorn dreams.”

“I don’t know how Mom came up with that, but to this day I still believe ice cream is exactly that,” Harper says. “Go get your delicious unicorn dream. We’ll keep looking at other websites.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Lyric chuckles. “Go enjoy. We’ll keep mining the web for Mary Poppins.”

I hug my wonderful sisters tightly, beyond grateful for their help. “Love you both. I’ll check in later.” I give a little wave then head out the door.

Chapter Ten

Tyberius

The rumble of my SUV fades as I pull up to the garage. Although, I gave a hundred and ten of myself during the training session and while we watched old videos, my mind was still back at home with Myra. The image of my child stomping her feet because things weren’t going well crossed my mind a few times.

Though she’s not thrown a tantrum in awhile, I worry this disruption could cause a setback. She’s a good kid. No, she’s great. But transitions are hard at this age.

Stepping inside, I stop short. There, in the living room, Myra sits cross-legged on the floor, puzzle pieces spread out on the coffee table in front of her, brow furrowed in concentration. It’s the stillest I’ve ever seen her.

My gaze drifts, almost of its own accord, to Indigo. She’s right next to Myra. There’s a grace about Indie, an ease that belies the complexity of simply being in this space, in this moment. She’s beautiful, yes, but it’s more than that. It’s the way she interacts with Myra, with the space around her—she seems to weave a sense of calm into the very air.

Indigo’s hair catches the light, framing her face in a way that highlights her features, soft yet striking. There’s an intelligence in her eyes, a warmth that seems to invite conversation without a word being spoken. Watching her, I’m struck again by an intense attraction. An involuntary pull toward her that I hadn’t anticipated.

She looks up, perhaps sensing my stare, and our eyes meet. There’s a flicker of something—recognition, maybe, or the spark of something new and undefined. In that single glance, there’s an entire conversation we haven’t had yet, a depth of interaction that goes beyond the casual exchanges we’ve shared up to now.

My pulse quickens as I clear my throat. “Hey, how’s it going here?”

Smooth, real smooth, asshole. Why must I sound like a bumbling fool whenever I address her? Something about this woman short-circuits my brain signals and scatters my thoughts.

“Daddy,” Myra jumps up from the puzzle, bouncing over to me. I sweep her into my arms, twirling her as she giggles.

“How are you, pumpkin?”

“I had ice cream before lunch,” she whispers loudly. “Well, it was fluffy clouds from unicorn dreams.”

“So much for let’s keep it between us.” Indie chuckles.

“Oops.” Myra’s eyes go wide. “It’s okay because Indie’s my new best friend.”

“I see.” I glance toward Indigo.“Looks like you’ve made quite the progress.”