Chapter 3
Ella
“Mom, please? Everyone at school goes trick-or-treating,” Nora begs for what feels like the hundredth time this week. She’s sprawled across my bed, watching me fold laundry with those wide, pleading eyes that make my resolve weaken.
I sigh, setting down a stack of towels. “Nora, sweetheart, we’ve talked about this. We don’t have many neighbors out here, and it’s different than in town.”
“But Jake is our neighbor! We could go to the main house, and maybe after that go to Pinecrest.” She sits up, determination written across her face. “Uncle Kane said when he was little, he used to dress up every year.”
Since my half-siblings arrived three weeks ago, Nora has been collecting tidbits about their childhoods like precious gems. Kane, especially, has become her favorite storyteller.
“That was different. He lived in the city,” I explain, though my excuses sound hollow even to my ears. The truth is, I’ve spent years keeping us invisible, hidden away. Halloween—parading around in costumes, knocking on doors—feels dangerously exposed.
“Please, Mom,” she whispers, her bottom lip trembling slightly. “I already have my costume idea. I want to be a cowgirl, like the ones in the books Uncle Declan gave me.”
My heart clenches. For eight years, I’ve denied her this simple childhood joy out of fear. Fear of Mikhail somehow finding us, fear of drawing attention, fear of the outside world touching our carefully constructed bubble.
“What if...” I hesitate, hardly believing what I’m about to suggest. “What if we just did a small version? Maybe visit Jake, then go to the main house to see your aunts and uncles, but that’s it.”
Her face lights up like I’ve just offered her the moon. “Really? We can really go trick-or-treating?”
“A tiny version,” I caution, already wondering if I’ll regret this. “And we’d need costumes.”
She launches herself at me, small arms wrapping around my neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I already know what you can be too!”
“Oh, do you now?” I laugh, holding her close.
“A witch!” she declares. “A good witch, with a pointy hat and everything!”
How fitting, I think wryly. The reclusive woman in the woods, already viewed with suspicion by the few locals who’ve glimpsed me, now literally dressed as a witch.
“Deal,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “But let’s keep it between us for now, okay? We’ll surprise everyone on Halloween.”
∞∞∞
Halloween arrives with a perfect autumn chill in the air.
The mountains are ablaze with color, and the afternoon sun casts long shadows across our yard as I help Nora into her cowgirl outfit.
We cobbled it together from pieces found in the attic of the main house—an old leather vest that must have belonged to the previous owners, silver spurs and a lasso that Declan ordered online, and boots Wren found in town.
“How do I look?” Nora spins in front of the mirror, her blonde braids bouncing beneath her hat.
“Like the fiercest cowgirl in all of Alberta,” I tell her, adjusting her bandana. “Annie Oakley has nothing on you.”
She beams, then points to the bed where my costume waits. “Your turn, Mom!”
I eye the black dress, pointed hat, and striped tights with unease. It’s been years since I’ve worn a costume, since I’ve allowed myself this kind of whimsy. But the excitement in Nora’s eyes makes it impossible to back out now.
“Fine, but no photos,” I warn, though I know it’s a lost cause. Kat has become the unofficial family photographer, her phone constantly ready to capture moments for what she calls “the MacGallan family archive.”
Ten minutes later, I’m staring at my reflection in bewilderment. The witch costume is actually... flattering? The black dress hugs my curves, usually hidden under practical sweaters and jeans. The hat sits at a jaunty angle atop my red curls, which I’ve left loose for once.
“You look beautiful, Mama,” Nora says in awe.
I smile, touching the brim of my pointy hat. “And you look perfect. Ready for our adventure?”
She nods eagerly, grabbing the plastic pumpkin bucket Rory found in town. “Ready!”
The sun is setting as we climb into my SUV. I’ve decided we’ll drive to Jake’s ranch first—partly because it’s closer, and partly because I’m nervous about how he’ll react. Better to get the most uncomfortable part over with.
“Do you think Mr. Jake will have candy?” Nora asks as we bounce down the dirt road that connects our properties.
“I’m not sure, sweetheart. He might not be expecting trick-or-treaters out here.” I haven’t told her how standoffish our neighbor has been, how he barely acknowledges us when we cross paths.
Jake’s ranch house comes into view—a two-story log cabin with a wide porch and dark windows. Unlike our cottage with its cheerful Halloween decorations, his place looks abandoned except for the truck parked outside and the thin wisp of smoke rising from the chimney.
“It looks spooky,” Nora whispers as I park.
“Remember, if he seems busy, we’ll just say hello and go,” I remind her, suddenly questioning my decision. “He might be tired from working all day.”
We make our way up the creaking steps to the front door. No lights welcome us, no decorations soften the stark exterior. I hesitate, then knock firmly, hearing the sound echo inside.
Long seconds pass. I’m about to suggest we leave when the door swings open, revealing Jake Brennan’s imposing figure.
He’s wearing worn jeans and a flannel shirt that hangs open, revealing a tanned, muscular chest. A day’s worth of stubble darkening his jaw has saliva pooling in my mouth.
His eyes widen slightly at the sight of us.
“Trick or treat!” Nora calls out, holding up her pumpkin bucket with enthusiasm.
Jake stares, at a loss for words. His gaze shifts from Nora to me, lingering on my costume before quickly looking away.
“I, uh, don’t have any candy,” he says gruffly.
“That’s okay,” I jump in, placing a protective hand on Nora’s shoulder. “We just wanted to say hello. This is Nora’s first time trick-or-treating, and we thought—”
“First time?” His brow furrows as he looks down at Nora again. “How old are you, kid?”
“Eight,” she answers quickly. “But Mom says we couldn’t go before because we live too far away from people.”
Something flickers across Jake’s face—surprise, maybe, or understanding. He runs a hand through his dark hair, then sighs. “Wait.” His voice stops us. He disappears from the doorway, leaving us standing awkwardly on the porch. A moment later, he returns with something in his hand. “Here.”
He drops a package of beef jerky and what looks like peanut butter cups into Nora’s bucket. “Best I can do.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jake!” Nora beams at him as if he’s just given her diamonds. “I love jerky! Do you like my costume? I’m a cowgirl, see? I have jeans, a lasso, and everything!”
His expression softens slightly. “Nice hat,” he says, nodding at her cowboy hat. “Looks authentic.”
Nora practically glows with pride. “Mama got it for me. She’s a witch, but not a scary one.”
His eyes meet mine briefly, and I think I see the ghost of a smile. “I gathered that.”
An awkward silence falls between us. I clear my throat. “Well, thank you for the treats. We should get going—we’re heading to the main house next.”
“Main house?” he repeats, frowning slightly. “Thought nobody lived there except when the old man visited.”
“My family is visiting,” I explain, keeping it vague. “My... siblings.”
He studies me for a moment, and I have the uncomfortable feeling he’s piecing things together. “MacGallans,” he says finally. “You’re one of them.”
I nod, surprised he knows the name. “Yes.”
“Huh.” He doesn’t elaborate, steps back from the door. “Drive safe. Road gets tricky in the dark.”
It’s a dismissal, but a gentler one than I expected. As we turn to leave, Nora calls over her shoulder, “Happy Halloween, Mr. Jake!”
For a moment, I think he won’t respond. Then, so quietly I almost miss it, he says, “Happy Halloween, kid.”
Back in the car, Nora chatters excitedly about the peanut butter cups as we drive toward the main house. I listened with half an ear, my thoughts lingering on Jake’s chest and how good he looked in his jeans.
The main lodge comes into view, and I gasp in surprise. The entire front is decorated with orange and purple lights. Jack-o’-lanterns line the steps, and what appears to be a life-sized skeleton sits in a rocking chair on the porch.
“Wow!” Nora presses her face against the window. “Look, Mom! They decorated!”
I park beside Kane’s truck, stunned. When I left this morning, the house had been entirely normal. Now it looks like Halloween exploded all over it.
As we approach the front door, it swings open dramatically, and I nearly trip backwards in shock. Kane stands there dressed in full pirate regalia—complete with eye patch, bandana, and what appears to be a plastic parrot attached to his shoulder.
“Arrr, who goes there?” he growls, then breaks into a grin at Nora’s delighted squeal.
“Uncle Kane! You’re a pirate!”
“The fiercest pirate of the seven seas,” he confirms, bowing low. “And who might you be, young lady?”
“I’m a cowgirl!” Nora twirls to show off her outfit. “And Mom’s a witch!”
Kane’s eyes meet mine over Nora’s head, twinkling with mischief. “A beautiful witch,” he says with a wink that makes me roll my eyes.
“What is all this?” I gesture to the decorations. “The house was normal this morning.”
“Ah, that would be Wren’s doing,” Kane explains, ushering us inside. “After you mentioned you two had never properly celebrated Halloween, she went a bit... overboard.”
The interior of the lodge has been transformed. Fake cobwebs stretch across the ceiling beams. Orange and black streamers hang from the chandelier. A table laden with Halloween-themed food and drinks dominates one corner of the great room.
And my siblings—all of them—are in costume.
Declan lounges against the fireplace, dressed as what appears to be Dracula, complete with slicked-back hair and a flowing black cape.
Kat and Wren stand side by side as a zombie bride and groom, their faces artfully made up with fake blood and stitched scars.
Connor’s convincingly furry werewolf costume bristles with faux fur, while Rory sports a mad scientist outfit, his hair standing on end as though charged by some electric experiment.
Kori twirls in a skeleton ballerina costume, her tulle skirt printed with glowing bones and her face painted chalk-white.
Mia prowls nearby in a sleek black cat ensemble—velvet ears, a curled tail, and whiskers drawn with precision.
“Surprise!” they all chorus as Nora enters, her eyes wide with wonder.
“You all dressed up?” she whispers, clearly overwhelmed. “For me?”
“Of course, for you,” Wren says, stepping forward with a warm smile. Despite the gruesome makeup, her eyes glow with kindness. “Every kid deserves a proper Halloween. We even have games planned.”
I blink back unexpected tears, touched beyond words by their effort. These people whom we barely know—my half-siblings, these MacGallans with their tangled past—have conjured this magical evening just for my daughter.
“We have bobbing for apples,” Connor announces, pointing toward a large metal tub. “And a costume contest, and enough candy to put us all in sugar comas.”
Kori waves a painted, bone-white hand. “I’m in charge of the pumpkin ring toss,” she says, her ballerina skirt swishing. Mia, crouched like a cat ready to pounce, offers Nora a handful of spider-shaped gummies.
“I’ve never seen so many decorations,” Nora breathes, spinning slowly to take it all in.
Lana appears from the kitchen, dressed as a fairy godmother, complete with a sparkly wand, a flowing pastel gown, and a glittering tiara. “The Halloween feast is almost ready,” she announces. “We’ve got mummy hot dogs, witch-finger cookies, and punch that looks like blood but tastes like fruit.”
“This is…” I search for words, overwhelmed by their kindness. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“It wasn’t trouble,” Kane says, draping his arm casually around my shoulders. “It was fun. None of us had proper family Halloweens growing up. We’re making up for lost time.”
His words strike home. This isn’t just for Nora—it’s for all of us. The family experiences Tomas denied us, the connections we’re only now beginning to forge.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.
“Don’t thank us yet,” Declan warns with a dramatic flourish of his cape. “Wait until you see what Kat did to the basement for the haunted-house tour.”
“Haunted house?” I repeat, immediately concerned. “Nora might be too young—”
“Relax, Mama Bear,” Kat laughs, adjusting her shredded veil. “It’s kid-friendly. Just some spooky lights, fake spiderwebs, and Kori’s glow-in-the-dark skeleton projections.”
The evening unfolds like something from a dream—or more accurately, from the childhood I never had.
We bob for apples, leaving my witch makeup streaked.
We play pin-the-face-on-the-pumpkin, howling with laughter when Rory ends up sticking the eyes near the stem.
Mia the cat darts through the crowd, pouncing on stray candy wrappers, and Kori gracefully helps Nora loop rings around pumpkin stems.
We feast on Halloween-themed treats that are equal parts grotesque and delicious. Through it all, Nora glows with happiness, bouncing between her new aunts and uncles with unrestrained joy. I watch her from the sidelines, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.
“She’s having the time of her life,” a voice says beside me. Kane appears with two glasses of ‘blood’ punch, offering one to me.
“They all are,” I observe, nodding toward where Declan and Connor are locked in a mock duel, using plastic skeleton arms as swords while Kat films their antics on her phone.
“Including you?” Kane asks, studying my face.
I smile, surprised by how genuine it feels. “Including me. I can’t remember the last time I celebrated… anything, really.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” he says, clinking his glass against mine. “To remind you how to live, not just survive.”
His words hit closer to home than he could know. For eight years, survival has been my only goal—keeping Nora safe, keeping us hidden, keeping the past at bay. The concept of actually living, of finding joy beyond mere existence, now seems within reach.