At that point, Evelyn was speechless. I took Amelia’s hand and turned to leave. “Come on, sweetheart,” I said softly. “We’ll go trick-or-treating on our own. With people who actually have hearts.”
And with that, we walked out of her house.
Evelyn’s words echoed in my head long after we left her house — some of us simply have higher standards. I could still see Amelia’s tear-streaked cheeks in the rearview mirror, her small hand clutching her candy bag like she was afraid to let go of what little joy was left in the night.
“Sweetheart,” I said gently, turning in my seat to look at her, “do you still want to go trick-or-treating?”
Her eyes widened. “Can we? Even though Grandma said no?”
Michael met my gaze. His expression was firm now. “Grandma doesn’t get to decide what Halloween means,” he said softly. “We do.”
So, we did. We drove a few blocks away, parked the car, and walked hand in hand down a quieter street where porch lights glowed and jack-o’-lanterns flickered in the dark.
At the first house, an older couple opened the door. “Oh, my goodness!” the woman said. “Look at you. You’re the perfect Wednesday Addams!”
Amelia’s grin broke through her sadness. “Thank you,” she whispered, holding out her candy bag.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
