Page 65 of Halo

“Is Grady feeling okay?”

“Grady?” she mumbles. “Yeah, he's fine. B-but Nick … he needs to go trick-or-treating. Tonight.”

I raise an eyebrow, glancing down at my phone. “Tiffany, do you maybe need to go to urgent care?”

She doesn't respond.

Tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my pulse quickening. “Tiffany? Y’there?”

“Hrmm?” She sniffles again. “I'm sorry. What did you say?”

“I … I think you need a doctor.”

“What? No, no … I just need water and some s-sleep. And you—I need you to come pick up Grady.”

“Yeah … yeah, of course. Um …” I look down at my watch before dragging my fingers through my hair. “Hang tight. Let me see what I can do, okay?”

“Thanks, Nick.”

***

Woodsmoke hangs heavy in the humid Texas air. The sweet scent of funnel cakes and buttered popcorn teases my senses as the squeals of hundreds of costumed children fill the outdoor space.

Grady's eyes are wide, taking in the candy-induced chaos. Squeezing my hand, he bops along in his Tyrannosaurus Rex costume, his tail wagging behind him. He hasn't let go of me since I picked him up from Tiffany's apartment.

I texted Julian the moment a colleague agreed to stay for the final hours of my call shift. He sent me a flyer for a Halloween alternative at a local church, promising games, inflatables, and enough candy to keep every kid in Houston awake until Thanksgiving. Apparently, the Christians decided to go all out for Halloween while insisting it wasn't Halloween.

“Nick! Look!” Grady tugs me toward a booth decorated with plastic dinosaurs and palm trees.

A cheerful older gentleman in a safari hat beams at us. “Welcome to the Dino Dig! God made dinosaurs too, you know?”

Did he now?

Grady sinks to his knees in front of a plastic kiddie pool filled with sand, his little hands reaching for one of the toy shovels.

“Alright, little guy, If you can find a fossil, you'll get a—”

“Don't call me little,” Grady grumbles.

The volunteer looks to me apologetically.

I shrug. “He's five.”

“He's ... passionate,” he chuckles, turning back to Grady. “Alright, sir. If you find a fossil, you'll get a prize. There's all different types of dinosaurs in there. T. Rex, Triceratops, pterodactyls—”

“Pterodactyls aren't dinosaurs,” Grady says matter-of-factly as he digs in the sand.

The volunteer glances at me helplessly.

I grin. “He's very passionate.”

“Well, look who it is!”

I freeze, dread unfurling in my gut. I force a practiced grin. “Declan. I didn't realize you could survive around so many crosses.”

He playfully punches my shoulder. “Always a character! It's so good to see you.” He steps closer to me before glancing around the crowd of people. “It's a great turn-out this year.”

That's when I notice a volunteer badge on his shirt. “Do you go to this church?”