Page 72 of The Clifftop Cottage

This year, it was as if the excitement had taken on a life of its own.

For weeks, Maisie had been crossing off the days on the witch-shaped countdown board by her bed, chosen carefully at the autumn market. Each morning another number disappeared beneath bright orange chalk.

Her room told the rest of the story. Ghost cushions, a pumpkin nightlight glowing softly after dark, and her newest treasure from Auntie Erica: a black cat with tiny bat wings she’d named Spooky.

Leah smiled to herself, watching Maisie skip ahead, her laughter ringing out against the quiet streets.

Tonight would be special.

With Dylan back on the rigs, the house felt still when they arrived home. Too still at times, although the usual thump of their over-excitable dog, Dusty, made up for it. Dinner was already made, the warm scent of slow-cooked chilli filling the kitchen. Leah exhaled, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. Maybe, for once, everything would go smoothly.

“I need to get dressed!” Maisie declared, kicking off her school shoes and making a beeline for the stairs.

“Maisie Moo, no! Dinner first!” Leah called after her, but it was useless. Her daughter’s excitement had reached an unstoppable level. Leah sighed. Maybe that was the streak of stubborn determination she and Erica shared.

Erica.

Leah checked her phone. Still no message.

Frowning, she called her. Maybe Erica would want to grab a quick bite before heading out. Leah had even tucked away an old mummy costume from a long-forgotten staff Halloween party – just in case Erica had forgotten to dress up and needed to borrow. But there she was again, trying to plan for her sister, to anticipate every possible scenario.

Will I ever stop worrying about her?

Maisie finally sat down, reluctantly eating only a small portion of chilli before solemnly declaring that it was best to “leave room for sweets”.

Leah rolled her eyes but let it slide.

Her phone buzzed. Dylan.

She answered, tucking it between her ear and shoulder as she cleared the bowls.

“Hey, how’s our little witch?” Dylan’s voice was warm, though there was a weariness underneath it.

“Bouncing off the walls, as expected.” Leah smiled, but the smile faded when Maisie suddenly looked up from the couch.

“Mummy, where’s Auntie Erica?”

Leah hesitated.

“Is she not there?” Dylan asked.

“I haven’t actually heard from her today …” Leah admitted. Or yesterday, she thought, but didn’t say it.

There was a beat of silence.

Dylan’s voice dropped. “Leah … was it wise to get her involved? Maisie’s been looking forward to this for weeks. And your sister … well, she’s not exactly …”

Leah’s stomach clenched. She knew what he was about to say.

“Don’t.” The word came out so abruptly that Maisie looked over.

Dylan hesitated before backtracking. “I just mean … she’s not been the most reliable lately. If she lets Maisie down⁠—”

“She won’t.” The words came out too quickly.

But even as she said it, doubt crept in.

Dylan sighed. “I hope you’re right.”