Page 6 of Christmas at Wolf Creek
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 withprecision.
“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 Halloweenfeast 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 withlaughter 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.
Chapter 4
Ella
The alarm blares at five in the morning, and I groan as I fumble to silence it. November has arrived with a vengeance, bringing freezing temperatures that make my cozy bed nearly impossible to leave. But duty calls.
I dress quietly in the dark, careful not to wake Nora, who’s still sound asleep, her Halloween cowgirl hat perched on her bedpost where she insisted it remain “for safekeeping.”
The kitchen is cold as I brew coffee and pack Nora’s lunch. Scout watches me from his bedby the heating vent, clearly judging my life choices at this ungodly hour.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I whisper to him. “Some of us have to work for a living.”