At home there was a stack of flattened boxes near the back door.

“Is there something I should know?” I asked, entering the kitchen.

“We got the house,” my mom said, bouncing Leira on her lap. “We were even able to negotiate a short closing.”

“Congrats,” I said, “but how short?”

“A week from Saturday.”

“What? That’s not enough time to —”

“It will have to be. The papers are signed,” she said, snapping a lid on the baby bottle and our conversation.

I sulked off to my bedroom and flopped onto my bed. I didn’t have time for homework, working at Afi’s, breaking a magical pact, and boxing up my life.

I was about to let such negativity cloud my plans when my cell phone rang and I saw Jack’s name on the caller ID.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hey.” It was a simple word: expendable in most sentences, but the way he delivered it, growly with affection, undid me.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Just checking in. I thought you were going to call last night.”

Ugh. Forgot. Plus was underneath Big Turtle.

“Sorry. I worked and then . . . had a bunch of homework. We got that house, by the way.” I was happy for something newsy as a change of subject. “We move a week from Saturday.”

“That’s fast.”

“And will be a lot of work.”

“Then we should do something fun this weekend. We’ve got an overtime crew going out all day Saturday, but my dad will have to give me some time off on Sunday.”

“What should we do?” I asked.

“There’s a hike I haven’t done in a long time: Alpenstock Conservation Area.”

I should have known his idea of fun would be a nature outing that took stamina. Personally, I’d have preferred a department store that took Visa; my dad’s, of course. I must have gone too long without commenting.

“Did you have another idea?” Jack asked.

A movie. A play. A restaurant. Bowling. Putt-putt golf. A scenic drive. A pumpkin patch. Or even a corn maze, for goodness sake. But it occurred to me that it was his turn to pick.

“A hike sounds pretty.”

“The forest is old-growth. It feels like stepping back in time.”

Better than through time or to another realm, I thought after hanging up with him, reluctantly, as always.

Contact with Jack gave my mood, and confidence, the boost it needed. While in the bathroom getting ready for bed, I turned my attentions back to Jaelle. Why not paint a room pink if your heart is set on starting a family with a girl-first preference? Made sense to me. And it inspired me. I had been proactive in placing Jacob with Julia. Why not Jaelle? The only small snafu was that with Jacob I had a specific soul to beckon, thus I could tailor my efforts to his personality.

I spat toothpaste into the sink and looked up at my reflection.

How would I begin such a thing with Jaelle? Also troubling was the pesky issue of the other potential vessels. If the soul had no previous attachment to Jaelle, how could I guarantee that she would prevail as the chosen vessel? As with Jacob, I was willing to explore the reach and sweep of my powers, and even employ subtle manipulation, but I wouldn’t lie during the council meeting. Even without a rule book or set of Stork laws, I sensed such a maneuver would be the kind of transgression like the one that got Dorit booted. I also knew an incompatible placement wouldn’t benefit either Jaelle or the soul. So what were my options? One thing I knew for sure, the child I placed with Jaelle would do well to have an easygoing personality; Jaelle had the strength of will for two, or more. And to sign on with this renegade mission of mine, a sense of adventure was a must. And given the palace that awaited her, an affinity for girly things wouldn’t hurt, either. These criteria were, if nothing else, a starting point in my search. I plinked my toothbrush into the sink-side cup and pulled the headband from my hair.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I whispered, fanning the words with a whisk of my right hand, “A soul, a girl, is sought. She should be a lover of pink, sweet-natured, and an explorer at heart.” I slipped under the covers satisfied with my appeal.