“What the hell are you talking about?” The Magpie just wanted to have a straightforward conversation and develop a plan, preferably one that rid him of this child and removed him from the situation entirely.

“I’m saying you’ve unintentionally adopted a toddler.”

He sighed at his friend’s jokes, barely frowning as he finally pulled off his sweatshirt and stretched his sore muscles. “Be serious, Squirrel. What did you find?” The setting sun through the windows had combined with the girl’s body heat and a line of sweat was creating a clear trail down his back.

“Sadly, I’m completely serious.” They took a paper from beside them and handed it over – a printed copy of the girl’s birth certificate. “River Ann Waters. Daughter of Charlotte May Waters. Born July 14, 2016, NewYork-Presbyterian. I also have medical records from Bed-Stuy during her mother’s pregnancy. Poor woman wasn’t very clever. Like going to Brooklyn would somehow hide it.”

A tension headache was beginning to build and the Magpie closed his eyes. “Shit.” This day was never going to end.

“Exactly. I’m the best, of course, but even the Suns will know about her in a week, if they’re really looking. And based on what you said, they’re definitely looking.” Leaving the paper in his hand, Squirrel stood and began pacing around the open space. They never were able to stay still for long. “So? What’s the plan, daddy?”

The Magpie glanced quickly at the sleeping girl, his blank expression never changing, then looked back to his friend. “We can drop her off somewhere. She won’t have a name, and they won’t bother to look.” It wasn’t a good option, and a pang of some unknown, surprisingly painful feeling cut through him, but they didn’t have a lot of choices right now.

“Did you really just say that? You, of all people, are going to be able to do that?”

“We were old. She’s young and cute. Someone will adopt her.” He believed it, most of him anyway. Still, his chest grew heavy saying it out loud.

Squirrel huffed and frowned. A frown on that always cheerful face meant they were genuinely upset, but the expression didn’t last, a hand waving his plan away. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t work. The foster system is the Suns’ playground. They’ll expect it, and they’ll find her.”

The pacing stopped and they gazed at him with a small but thoughtful smile. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what they were about to say.

“This is the way I see it...”

Dainty fingers extended out toward him, counting along as they spoke.

“One. They’ll discover the girl quickly.

“Two. Abandonment to the foster system is out. Too risky.

“Three. The Magpie took that loan shark job. It’s not a secret. They’ll assume you either found what they’re looking for, or took the child because she knows. Or both. And they hate you, vehemently, so you’re already a target.

“Four. You’re a loner, my dear friend, and have no safe place to leave the girl while you’re on the run.

“So, in conclusion, five. You become a father, and you both go into hiding until we figure this out.”

All he did was take a track and retrieve job for an overdue loan. What? A father? Unfortunately, he couldn’t argue with Squirrel’s logic, but he also couldn’t be responsible for a three-year-old girl. It was absurd. What did he know about raising a small child? He stared up at the open ceiling, following the ductwork as he pondered alternatives.

“I can’t take care of a little girl,” he finally concluded through a half groan and half sigh. There wasn’t a single thing about him that would make a capable parent, even if it was only for a short time. “You take her. You’re more feminine than me.”

The initial response was only a loud snort, which then turned into lively giggles. Taking a deep breath, Squirrel waved a hand at him in disagreement. “The entire world is more feminine than you, honey. But being girly doesn’t mean I know the first thing about taking care of a girl.” They giggled again, that playful smirk at home on their pretty face. “Besides, my dorm doesn’t allow pets.”

He groaned yet again, the stress moving from behind his eyes and building at the base of his skull. This situation was beyond ridiculous. He should have ignored the cry and left the apartment when he intended. There would be no Lost Horizon, no child, no stress headache, and most of all, no change to his life as the Magpie. Turning to look at the girl sleeping beside him, her eyelashes over those big eyes lightly fluttering as she dreamt, he knew he didn’t really mean that. But he wasn’t sure staying with him was really her best option.

Seeing him struggle, Squirrel cleared away the remaining doubt. “Well, an alternative five. You drop her, and whatever happens, happens. She isn’t your problem anyway.” A warm smile replaced their earlier smirk. “But, I know how soft you are. No matter what you say, I know you can’t do that.”

“Shit.”

Squirrel’s smile widened and he let out a resigned sigh. Cautious not to wake the girl, he lifted her from the couch and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her little body on the massive king-sized bed, her head resting on his down-filled pillow, and she squirmed, wriggling like any small creature to get comfortable.

Watching her sleeping peacefully like this, he knew Squirrel was right. He was no father and had no idea what a child needed. But if the Rising Suns managed to take her, her life would be a living hell. And the worst part would be, at this age, she wouldn’t know any better. She would live like she was dead, chained to a hollow life of servitude, and to her, that would be normal.

He sighed again and lowered the blinds before meeting his friend at the kitchen island, grabbing an adjacent stool.

“Tell me your plan.”