Four-year-old Eliot smiled and ducked his head shyly as his parents and friends finished singing him the birthday song with exuberant flourishes.

"Blow out the candles, buddy," his dad prompted him, and Eliot looked at the cake, the four flames dancing temptingly right in front of his nose.

He bit his lip, thinking. He would have to make an especially good wish - it wasn't every day you turned four. He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly knowing what he wanted, and made the wish in his head. Then he opened his eyes, sucked in a huge breath, and blew out the candles.

Everyone cheered for him and he looked up to see his mom smiling at him, but he was distracted by his dad nudging him over to cut the cake.

"What'd you wish for, Eliot?"

"Can't tell," Eliot said, looking at his dad in surprise. "It won't come true."

Everyone laughed around him, but Eliot's eyes were back on the candles still trickling smoke into the air. He needed his wish to come true, not just for him, but for his parents too.

Later that night, Eliot let his mom stroke his hair as she tucked him in. "Momma," he said, blinking sleepily. "How long does it take for wishes to come true?"

She smiled down at him, pulling his Batman sheets up to his chin. "I think that depends on the wish."

He frowned. "How long will my wish take?"

"Well," she said. "You won't tell me what you wished for so I don't know."

She was smiling and he couldn't tell if she was teasing him or not. He sighed. "Can't tell."

"Or it won't come true, I know. Maybe if you just whispered it to me it would be okay," she suggested.

He thought about it. He needed his wish to come true, but he really wanted to know when it would come true. He couldn't wait around forever. "Okay." He waved his mom closer so he could whisper in her ear. "I wished for a brother," he said.

She sat up slowly and he was scared to see tears in her eyes. Had he made the wrong wish? "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, no," she reassured him, smiling and blinking the moisture from her eyes. "I'm just … I don't know when that wish can come true, Eliot."

He pouted, disappointed. "Can you ask Dad?"

She laughed and he felt relieved that she wasn't crying. But also a little annoyed that she was laughing at him. "I'll do that." She leaned in and kissed his head. "Don't give up on that wish, all right? I won't either."

"'Kay," he mumbled, his eyelids already sliding shut.

Nate awoke the next morning to the sound of his son's door opening and closing and then a stool scraping across the kitchen floor. He feared that didn't bode well. He rolled out of bed carefully to let Sophie sleep some more and headed down the hall. Eliot was perched on top of the counter, carefully poking his birthday candles back into his half-eaten cake, the lighter resting by his small hand.

"Eliot," he said softly.

The little boy's head snapped up and he stared guiltily.

"What are you doing, kiddo?"

"Um … Nothing," he said, looking innocently around the kitchen.

"Eliot, you can never play with the lighter. That's only for me or Mom to use, and you know that. So why did you get it out?" Nate said, walking to the counter and leaning in to make sure Eliot knew he was serious.

He sulked, his lower lip poking out the slightest bit.

"Eliot."

He scrunched his small shoulders up, recognizing Nate's stern voice. "I wanna do my candles again," he admitted quietly.

Nate smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair. "Buddy, all you have to do is ask." Nate lit the candles again thinking of what Sophie had told him about Eliot's wish last night. Neither of them had ever heard him mention wanting a sibling before, but apparently he was serious about this. And it wasn't that Nate and Sophie objected to another little one, but after the trauma of Eliot's birth Sophie's doctors had told her it wasn't safe for her to try for another child. But Eliot's wish had already got her talking about adoption.

Nate watched Eliot as he scrunched his eyes shut again, thinking of his wish before blowing the candles out again. He wasn't entirely sure he was ready for another round of the terrifying emotions he'd felt when Eliot came into their lives, but if that's what the rest of his family wanted, he was willing to take a look into it.

February, 8 months later

"Eliot! Put that down and find your shoes! We're going to be late!" Sophie called across the kitchen.

Eliot glanced up from whatever imaginary enemy he was battling with his foam sword and frowned.

"Five more minutes!" he said.

"Now," Sophie insisted, gathering his juice cup and favorite fruit snacks to take to preschool.

He still hadn't moved. "Can I take my sword?"

"Find your shoes and maybe we can talk," she said, glancing at the clock. If they didn't leave in the next two minutes she was definitely going to be late for an important meeting at the museum with a potential donor.

Eliot was wandering around the living room. "I can't find them," he huffed.

"Check your room, hurry! I'm getting your coat," she bustled over to the entryway hoping that by some miracle Eliot had left his coat on its peg. No such luck. "Eliot! Where did you -"

Her phone, which was still on the kitchen counter, rang and she groaned out loud. She really didn't need another distraction. She picked it up and spoke impatiently. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Ford? This is Breanne with the Alliance for Children adoption agency. Do you have a moment?"

Sophie's heart stuttered to a stop, her impatience gone. "Y-yes."

"We have a bit of an emergency, ma'am. We have a four-month-old who's foster mother's health has suddenly taken a turn for the worse. She's in the hospital, and the child is here with us. I know this is such short notice, but you and your husband are at the top of our list and we wondered if you could take him."

Sophie drew in a deep breath, a hand over her heart. "Take him? I … today?"

"Yes, Mrs. Ford. With the understanding that it might be temporary. Just until we can determine the state of his foster mother's health."

Sophie was struggling to process what she was being told. "So, he'll be going back to foster care? He's not eligible for adoption?"

The social worker - Breanne - sighed. "Not yet. His birth mother hasn't filed the appropriate paperwork. She was arrested on drug charges just weeks after he was born, but we're trying to work with her to sign the papers."

Sophie's heart already ached for the baby. But could she handle taking him in temporarily? Could she handle giving him back?

"Mrs. Ford, I'm so sorry. I know this is so much to take in. But do you think you and your husband would be interested?"

"I … I'll call him right now and get back to you," Sophie said.

"Thank you! Do you think you'll be able to let us know by 5 o'clock today?" Breanne asked.

"Yes," Sophie said, practically on accident. So they had just a little over eight hours to decide if they wanted to do this.

"Let me know if you have any questions," the social worker said, sounding relieved. "I'll look forward to hearing from you."

Sophie hung up the phone, her hands trembling. That meeting at the museum was going to have to wait. "Eliot?" she called, skillfully controlling the shake in her voice. "Did you find your shoes?"

Sophie drove to the school to drop Eliot off, giving the little boy a longer hug than usual. Then she drove to Nate's office, hoping he would be in and not on a meeting with a client, but feeling like a phone call just wasn't going to do it for this discussion.

Luck was with her and he was standing outside his private consulting offices, shaking hands with someone as she pulled into the parking lot. She drew a deep breath as she watched him laughing at something the other man said as he left. Fear and hope for the baby Breanne had told her about constricted her heart and she clutched the steering wheel, suddenly unable to leave the car.

But Nate saw her as he turned. After the brief flash of recognition, concern spread across his face and he jogged across the lot to her, opening the passenger side door.

"Soph? What's wrong?" he asked, closing the door behind him and reaching for her shoulder.

She realized there were tears on her face.

"You're scaring me," he said with a little uncomfortable laugh.

"I'm sorry," she managed, his concern making her emotions even more difficult to control.

"Is Eliot okay?" he asked.

She nodded and wiped ineffectually at her face with the back of her hand. "He's fine." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Nate, the adoption agency called. They… they have a baby for us," she said.

He blinked. "The adoption agency? They do? Wh- what - when -"

"Today," she said, swallowing past the burning in her throat. "They just called. They need someone to take him today." She managed to explain what Breanne had told her as Nate studied the dashboard, his expression inscrutable, even to her. "We have to let her know by five," she finished quietly, feeling a little more in control now that she was sharing the decision with Nate.

"Sophie, if we take him in, and he has to go back …" Nate said slowly, dragging his eyes up to meet hers.

She nodded. "Eliot would be devastated."

"It's not Eliot I'm worried about," he said.

"But if we don't help him, who will?" she said, feeling her eyes start to burn again. She didn't even know the baby's name or anything about him, but she knew he was helpless. And she knew she wanted another baby.

Nate sighed. "The social worker said there's a chance he'll be eligible for adoption?"

She nodded again. "I don't know how likely that is." Her phone suddenly sounded an alert and she looked down, noticing it was an email from the adoption agency. "Hold on, maybe they're sending us more information," she said, clicking on the email with a startling mixture of fear and excitement.

"Mrs. Ford, I thought you might want to know a bit more about the baby," she read to Nate. "His name is Alec Hardison, and he was born on September twentieth. His foster mother told us he's always been a good baby as long as he has company. He's healthy and right where he should be developmentally which is a miracle since his mother is suspected of substance abuse during her pregnancy." Sophie paused. "Nate, she included a picture," she said, scrolling down. A round-faced baby stared out of the picture, a grin lighting his face, his dark eyes bright and happy. "Look," she said, turning her phone toward Nate.

He took it, studying the picture for a moment and she watched his face soften. He sighed again, his eyes still on the phone. "Are you sure you can risk it?"

She bit her lip. "Since Breanne called, he's all I can think about. I think we have to try, Nate."

He looked at her and she saw rare fear, but also the beginnings of a smile. "When should we tell Eliot?"

She grinned and threw her arms around him. "Can we go now?"

They drove straight back to Eliot's preschool and his eyes lit up when they both showed up in the doorway of his classroom. They stood right in the hallway, Sophie unable to wait any longer to tell Eliot his wish was coming true.

"Eliot," she said, crouching next to him and bringing up the email on her phone. "Do you remember your birthday wish?"

He nodded, looking puzzled.

She showed him the picture, suddenly feeling her words were wasted on the moment. Eliot gazed at the picture, his eyebrows drawn together. "Who is that, Momma?"

"Buddy, that's your brother," Nate said softly, bending down to look into the little boy's face.

His eyes went wide and he looked at Sophie for confirmation. She nodded. He grabbed the phone out of her hands and brought it close to his face.

"He doesn't look like me," he said after a moment.

Sophie laughed and grabbed him in a hug. "Would you like to go meet him?"

Nate drove back to the house to pick up Eliot's old carseat and Sophie called Breanne back to let them know they were on their way to fill out the paperwork. Eliot asked question after question from the backseat but when Sophie unbuckled him he didn't rush out of the car like she'd been expecting.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Eliot frowned, staring at the tips of his sneakers.

"Eliot," Nate said. "Don't you want to go see him?"

The little boy picked at a loose thread in his jeans. "Maybe … I could just go to McDonald's."

Sophie shared a confused glance with Nate. "I thought you were excited to see him," she said, reaching out to rest a hand on his knee.

He shrugged.

Sophie suspected she knew what was wrong, but couldn't expect the four-year-old to be able to put it into words himself. "Are you worried about things changing?" she asked gently.

"Aimee said her baby sister cries a lot and it makes her Momma be mad," he said, still refusing to look at them.

"Come here, love," she said, picking him up and lifting him to her hip. He wrapped his arms around her neck and put his head on her shoulder like he only did anymore after a nightmare. "You don't have to worry, Eliot," she said, swallowing her emotions for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "Momma and Daddy are always going to love you and take care of you, all right? No matter what."

"But what if he doesn't like me?" the little boy mumbled with a sniff.

"He's going to love you," she assured him, stroking his hair. "Because you're his big brother and you'll take care of him and teach him how to do so many things."

"Like play swords?" he asked, perking up a bit.

"When he's a little older," Nate spoke up.

"Are you ready now?" Sophie asked gently, feeling the question applied to all of them. Eliot nodded but didn't loosen his hold on her. "Okay. We'll do it together."

"As a team," Nate said.

They walked in and Breane was there to meet them, the baby against her shoulder. She smiled brightly and asked Nate if wanted to hold him, and they sat down, Eliot lifting his head off Sophie's shoulder curiously as Breane handed Nate the baby.

Alec stared up at them with his big dark eyes, and Nate smiled at him, talking quietly. Sophie grinned, watching as Eliot sat up in her lap, studying the baby.

"Here, Eliot," Nate said. "Your turn."

Sophie helped as Nate transferred the baby to Eliot's arms. They stared at each other for a minute and then Alec started to squirm around, his lips in a little pout.

"Talk to him, Eliot," Sophie said gently in the little boy's ear.

"Hi baby," he said softly, offering a small smile.

Alec stilled again, and grinned back, a wide, toothless grin that made Eliot giggle. "Momma!" he exclaimed, turning to look at her. "He smiled at me!"

While Nate and Sophie filled out the paperwork, Breane let Eliot help her feed Alec a bottle which made it difficult for Sophie to focus. But every time she looked back at them, she knew they'd made the right choice. And she knew that if things didn't work out the way they were hoping with Alec's adoption, they weren't letting him go without a fight.

Tiny Eliot is WAY too much fun to write. Thank you all so much for your reviews! I love every one. :)