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I laugh. “No. No, she did not. We had a little skirmish about that, and she won. Branch would be very proud of her ability to hold her ground.”

Layla laughs, and it’s music to my ears.

“We’re now learning about classical music and the alphabet,” I say, glancing at the spot that Sunny just occupied … and now does not.

Shit! I race around the couch, pulse racing, and find her up one of the steps leading to the bedroom. “No,” I mouth at her as I scoop her up.

“I’m impressed,” Layla says.

“How’s Branch?”

She sighs. “Good now that Leon is stable. I’m trying to talk him and his mom into going back to the hotel and getting some sleep. I told them that I’d stay here in case anything happens and I’d call so they can come back.”

“How’d that go over?”

“Like a cement block in the ocean.” She laughs. “A specialist will be here in the morning, and depending on what he says, I think things will settle down. I hope so, anyway. I miss my girlie.”

“Have you gotten any rest?” I ask. “You sound really tired.”

As if she were waiting on the opening, she yawns.

I plop Sunny back down and point at her. “Stay,” I whisper.

“Not much,” she says. “I caught a little in the waiting room. We checked into our hotel early this morning, and I lay down while Branch jumped in the shower. But he hasn’t closed his eyes once. I don’t know how he’s still going, honestly.”

I look over just in time to see Sunny with an ink pen in her little fist heading toward her eyeball. My heart drops, and I rush to take it from her. Except I trip over the pack of wipes and catch myself on the back of the couch.

“Oof,” I mutter, springing back into action. I catch her seconds after the pen takes a turn and winds up in her mouth. “Stop it.”

She pouts, reaching for it as I yank it away.

“I need to go,” she says. “The Wi-Fi here is shit. Every time I try to FaceTime you, it won’t connect. When we hopefully get to the hotel tonight, I’ll try from there.”

“Sounds good,” I say, wondering if I have time to put a load of dishes in the sink before Finn gets home. I’m not sure how they all got dirty today, or where the day even went, but the thought of him coming home to this mess—both the house and me as a person—throws me into an anxiety spiral.

“I love you, Poppy. Thanks again. Tell my little girl her mommy and daddy love her so much. We will be home soon.”

“I will. Love you, too. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” she says.

Sunny rubs her eyes with her fists. Her little lips start to pucker.

“No.” I scoop her up before she can start wailing. “Hey. Where’s my happy girl?” I ask, bumping her up and down.

“Mama,” she says, her lip trembling faster. “Mama.”

“Oh, your mama wants you too. But she wants you to be a happy girl and let Aunt Poppy get a few things done today.”

My phone rings again. This time it’s my boss. But at the same time that it rings, Sunny starts to cry. All I can do is stand in the middle of the living room with my phone in my hand and Sunny on my hip and feel myself frazzling.

Panic creeps in, and I can hear a ticking clock in my head. Nothing got done today. I failed on almost every level. And I can’t even give myself much grace because I signed up for this. It’s working from home with one baby. This should be manageable.

Before I can talk myself down or plan how to salvage this, the front door opens.

Sweat dots my palms as I wait for him to round the corner and judge me.

“Hey, Pop,” he calls, his voice echoing through the house. “I’m back.”