Ethan studied my face.
“Are you mad at him?”
“I’m upset about what happened.”
“Will he be mad at us?”
“No. I’ll make sure you aren’t blamed for speaking up.”
Owen leaned against me.
“Can we still eat some candy?”
“Of course.”
I helped them choose a few pieces and put the buckets away until morning.
When my husband, Michael, came home from work, the boys were already in bed.
He found me at the kitchen table.
“How was Halloween?” he asked.
I told him everything.
At first, he looked confused.
Then his expression changed.
“Wait,” he said. “He’s doing that again?”
“What do you mean, again?”
Michael sat opposite me.
“Dad used to do the exact same thing to me and my older brother every Halloween.”
I stared at him.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
He explained that Richard always insisted on taking them trick-or-treating, then claimed the best candy as payment afterward.
