Phoebe's POV
"What is that?" Perry's brow creased as his gaze landed on the small child nestled in my arms, her tiny form curled peacefully against my chest while she slept.
"She's not a thing, Perry. Her name is Harlow," I scolded him softly for his blunt question. "Keep your voice down—you'll disturb her sleep," I whispered in warning.
Harlow had drifted off peacefully after I'd shared a few bedtime stories with her. Earlier, Timothy had rushed to me in obvious haste, asking me to watch Harlow for a short while.
I hadn't questioned why Timothy seemed so urgent, but judging by his expression, it had to be something significant. So I'd simply agreed without prying.
Yet many hours had passed without the gamma's return, and midnight was fast approaching. A nagging worry crept into my thoughts—had something gone wrong between Timothy and Jude? Had their conversation turned sour? I silently hoped Timothy could persuade Jude to join us.
