Page 67 of Halo

“Then what kind of dinosaur are you?”

“It's just a costume,” he says. “I'm a dancing dinosaur.”

“Ohhhhh … the Tyrannosaurus Cut-a-Rugus.”

“That's so silly!”

“I agree with Grady,” Chelsea teases. She guides the twins in their princess outfits to take a seat at the picnic table while Lizzie—a witch—sits down on the opposite side. “Whew, there are so many people here. Are y’all having fun?”

Grady nods eagerly, taking another sip of his snowcone.

“This is a really nice setup.” I look back over the large gathering of people, bustling between games. “Never thought I'd be at church on Halloween.”

“I feel like there's a devil joke in here somewhere,” Chelsea muses before turning to her kids. “Alright, I'm taking orders. What do we want?”

As the girls study the menu, Julian sidles up beside me, nudging my shoulder. “¿Qué pasó? Is Tiffany okay?”

I grimace. “I don't know. She looked and sounded awful, but ...”

“But what?”

I lower my voice. “On the phone and in person, she kept spacing out. Her words were slurring.”

Julian's brow furrows. “You think alcohol?”

I chuff. “I don't know when she'd have found the time, but it wouldn't surprise me.”

“You don't think ... drugs?”

I hesitate. “No. At least ... I hope not.”

Julian rubs a hand over his forehead, muttering a curse under his breath. “Is he okay?” He nods toward Grady.

“Yeah, I think so. He was clingy on the ride over, but sudden changes throw him off.”

“What are you gonna do?”

I watch Grady laugh as he shows the girls his overflowing pumpkin bucket.

“What can I do, Santi?”

Julian steals a package of candy corn from his daughters’ stash. "Honestly, you gotta start trusting your instincts. You're a damn good doctor, Nick. You've saved lives because you sense things before anyone else can.” He tears open the package. “If something about tonight doesn't sit right with you—”

“I think I'm making quite the jump to a conclusion, don't you think?” I chuff. “I don't know this woman—not really. We knew each other in a friendly way six years ago. I can't accuse her of something nefarious when she could very well be sick.”

If I did that, I surely would lose my son.

“There's a difference between accusing and paying attention, Crawford. You know that.” He grabs another piece. “But between the bizarre story behind the field trip debacle and now this, I don't think your concern is unwarranted, especially with …” He clears his throat, glancing down at Grady.

Julian is right. Part of being Grady’s father means protecting him. Whether Tiffany was sick, drunk, or something else entirely, I couldn't keep pretending everything would somehow work itself out.

I've put it off long enough.

Monday, I'm calling a lawyer.

Julian offers candy corn to me. I wave it away. “What happened to no sugar?”

“It doesn't count on Halloween, cabrón.” He laughs, tossing back another piece.