Her smile still has shadows under it sometimes, and every now and then her gaze moves toward the framed photo above the bar. But when Elle spins to show off the full circumference of her egg costume, Remi laughs—small, but whole.
“I wish Beck was here,” Fletch sighs. “I need him to tell Prince this violates at least six safety codes.”
Evan’s eyes narrow through the penguin face hole. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Correct.”
Ghost appears beside Remi, holding a bowl of candy corn for Zela to pick through. He’s wearing a white sheet covered incrooked pumpkin stickers, which means the kids got to him at some point. “Beck’s at the station.”
“Of course he is,” Evan mutters.
“He said Halloween parties are a workplace hazard,” Ghost adds.
Fletch frowns. “Do you think he meant, like, structurally or for his own health?”
Ghost looks at Evan’s costume. “Tonight? Both.”
Remi lets out a tiny breath of laughter, and Ghost’s expression softens before he looks back down at Zela’s candy bowl.
Above the bar, beside Colt’s framed photo, someone has placed a tiny plastic pumpkin and a shot glass full of orange liquid. A paper sign beneath it reads:
For Lawson.
Do not drink unless you want him haunting your bathroom.
– Gwen
My throat tightens, but it doesn’t close.
Elle tugs me closer to the photo and lifts both arms. “Penny, can you pick me up.”
I glance at Evan, and he’s already watching. The inflatable costume makes it impossible for him to scoop her up properly, so I bend carefully, pray no-one can see under my skirt, and lift Elle onto my hip.
She leans toward Colt’s photo, serious as anything.
“Hi, Colt,” she says. “I’m the egg.”
The room around us keeps moving, but something in me goes very still. Remi’s eyes shine, and Gwen suddenly becomes fascinated by wiping down a perfectly clean section of bar, and Fletch looks up at the ceiling.
Ghost reaches past Remi for a napkin, leaving a fresh water beside her empty glass as he goes. She reaches for it without looking up.
Elle pats the frame once with her hand. “Daddy is the dad penguin. Penny is the pretty mom penguin. And Gus, he’s a fish, but we don’t eat him because he’s family.”
Remi presses her lips together, fighting a smile that trembles at the edges. “I think he’d like that.”
Elle gives a satisfied nod, then wriggles to get down because Max is about to challenge her to a candy corn sorting competition. I watch her go.
Stacey can't come near her, now. She took a deal and signed away any right to come near any of us. Last I heard, she was somewhere in Toronto, with court-ordered treatment folded into the terms of a sentence that still doesn’t feel like enough.
The man from the tower is still a blank space with a police file wrapped around him, still out there somewhere. Some days, that thought can drag me straight back into smoke and rope and the heat of flames.
But not tonight. I stay where I am a second longer, looking at Colt’s grin in the photo.
“I’m still sorry,” I whisper, low enough that only Evan hears.
He moves behind me as much as the costume allows, one flipper brushing the side of my arm.
A year ago, guilt would have dragged me under by now. It would have wrapped both hands around my throat and told me I didn’t deserve the laughter in this room. Tonight, it sits beside me instead. Heavy, yes. But not in charge.
