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Fake cobwebs hang from the chandeliers. Pumpkins line the staircase. Hundreds of candles flicker along the windowsills.

I find Autumn in the kitchen.

She’s standing beside the island, staring at something in her hand.

“Pumpkin?”

She turns.

And smiles.

Not her usual smartass grin.

Something softer.

A little nervous.

“What?” I ask.

She holds out a white plastic stick.

I stare at it.

Two pink lines.

My brain stops working.

“Autumn.”

“Surprise.”

I blink.

“You’re pregnant?”

She nods.

“Again?”

She laughs.

“Well, that’s generally how second children happen.”

Holy fucking shit.

Another baby.

Another little person running around my house, stealing my tools and telling my wife all my secrets.

I start laughing.

Then I scoop her into my arms.

She squeals.

“Grayson!”

“Another little monster?”